


Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

by etherealmindss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Triangle, Post Season 5, Stalia, isaac comes back to beacon hills, malia and isaac, malia and stiles are broken up, malisaac, stiles and malia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealmindss/pseuds/etherealmindss
Summary: Malia is questioning where her and Stiles stand in their relationship. Isaac is driving back to Beacon Hills when he runs into Malia and in between laughs, cries, and an emotional heart-to-heart, a connection is formed that could change Malia's outlook on love. Will Stiles realize she was the girl he let get away in time? Or will Isaac leave an epic impression on Malia's heart?





	1. The Habits of My Heart

Malia felt drained.

It has been a week since the pack defeated The Beast and everything was starting to go back to normal. Well, almost everything. Her and Stiles still weren't talking. I mean sure they spoke when it was absolutely necessary for a pack meeting, but never the way they used to: without reservation, intimately, and unfiltered.

They used to have this invisible tether in between them, unconsciously drawing them closer together. They could communicate through gazes and eye contact when words were not always required to convey what was needed to be said… but these days he wouldn't even meet her eyes for more than a fleeting moment. Malia figured the awkward tension would subside and with time they would talk about the ambiguous break up involving all the secrets they had kept from each other. They would just work it out and they would go back to simply being Stiles and Malia, right? Wrong. All her attempts at calling him when straight to voicemail. The harsh beep at the end of her message sounding scarily similar to a flat line, leaving Malia hollow inside.

It was late and the day was coming to an end. Malia's dad slept soundly on the couch downstairs as she threw on a pair of worn out shorts, her favorite Chuck Taylor's, and of the plaid flannels Stiles gave her during a particularly chilly morning. She lifted the material to her nose and inhaled the smell that reminded her so much of him, but was now fading away just like the remnants of their broken relationship.

She climbs through the window and begins her trek out to her home away from home, the woods. It's the only place Malia has felt at peace in a long time and she had a lot of self-reflection to contemplate.

 

Isaac drove past the "Welcome to Beacon Hills" sign and was on his way to surprise Chris before he made his way over to Scott's house to tell him that he was officially moving back.

Chris had taken on a father role for him that he had been lacking for a better part of his teenage years. They had leaned on each other in their time of mourning. Traveling together in France had been given him the time he needed to heal his grieving heart over the loss of Allison. In his heart, he knew the Allison had always loved Scott more, but he was still honored to have gotten the opportunity to know her and the girl behind the huntress and warrior. He held no resentment towards Scott and in a way he understood. Sometimes you just love someone with this intensity that would never be matched by another person, no matter how much you wish differently. However, that doesn't diminish or discredit the love she had for Isaac. It was just different, and that's okay.

Scott had become the brother he never had and Melissa stepping in for the mother he had lost too soon. He had missed them all so much and was happy to be back.

Before Isaac would get into town, he needed to make a stop at his special hideaway spot that had become a safe haven for him after long nights of neglect, abuse, and being locked in the freezer by his late father. His father was his anchor that kept his inner wolf in control. Derek once asked why this was, considering what an awful man his father had turned out to be.

"He wasn't always this way" He remembers replying.

Isaac is lost in thought as he stumbles his way down the path he remembers by heart until he reaches his destination. An opening appears in the mass of trees and there's a glorious view of the stars. He's just about to reacquaint himself and get comfortable when he suddenly notices a heartbeat not far away from him.

He turns his head and spots someone sitting near a tree a few yards away from him. All he can make out is a head of disheveled brown waves that stop at a pair of shoulders. It's a girl. It's still too dark to decipher any distinct features, but suddenly the moonlight illuminates her face from about eye level down to two prominent cheek bones and he sees her eyes. Gorgeous, whisky-stained irises sparkle at him as she stares directly at him without an ounce of fear. Ironically, she was holding a bottle of whiskey in between her small hands, downing half of it in one gulp. She never takes her eyes off of him as she continues to drink.

"So are you just going to stand there all night having a staring contest with me? 'Cause I promise you I will win. Or are you going to introduce yourself? It's the least you could do since you're invading my private time and favorite spot in Beacon Hills" She says nonchalantly with her pretty lips pulled back in a smirk.

Isaac chuckles darkly and sits down next to this girl he just met who he's already figured out is a feisty little thing and quite the ball-buster with a sharp tongue. He found that he was immensely enjoying her company and their banter.

"Actually if we're being technical, this was my place first. I found it about two years ago when I needed a place to think, but I am more than happy to share it with you" He replied charmingly.

Malia laughed at his obvious flirtation. Usually she would ignore or growl at some random boy that tried to charm her, but not Isaac. He was electric, and very charismatic. She liked that. His voice was deep, gentle, and warm like liquid honey. She doesn't know why, but it reminds her of home.

Isaac liked her laugh, She had a pretty laugh. The kind of laugh that makes a man fall to his knees and attempt to give a girl like her the world if that's what she wanted. He leaned in closer. She also smelled amazing. Is that creepy? She smelled like warm vanilla, some kind of spice her couldn't place, and the grass right after it rained. He wished he could see her better, but he didn't want to risk scaring her away with his true eyes. The golden pupils just might run her off and Isaac didn't want that.

If only he knew.

"I'm Isaac, Isaac Lahey" he said and held out his hand for her to shake.

"Malia Tate" She said simply, shaking his hand and taking another swig of the almost empty whisky bottle in her hand. "Want some?"

He takes the bottle from her hand, making sure to brush his thumb against her knuckles and takes a large gulp.

"So what are you doing out here at 4:00 in the morning, Malia Tate?" He exaggerates each syllable, liking the way her name rolls of his lips. Apparently she does as well by the grin she tries to hide behind a cough.

Malia is silent for a moment and he thinks that she isn't going to answer his question at all when her eyes become somber and she whispers, "I'm out here doing what all lost girls do, I suppose. Avoiding my problems and hoping the Universe or God or whoever is willing to listen will be gentle with me and tell me what I'm suppose to do next." She pauses- "My boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend I guess, came into my life and took it by storm. He created and unleashed parts of myself that have been dormant for the past eight years of my life. Life was great and I found love where it wasn't suppose to be… and then I guess he realized I just wasn't the girl for him. I have this theory that those big, catastrophic natural disasters are named after people. Just maybe, whoever comes up with the official names for these events got their heart broken. Imagine- someone profoundly different from everyone else comes into your life abruptly, like a hurricane causing irrevocable change to it. And then all of a sudden the rug is swept from underneath you and that person exits your life, obliterating every happy memory you've ever had of them in their wake. All that's left is the debris of your heart that you're left to pick up."

Malia continues to gaze at the same spot of the ground, finishing her story, but her eyes are vacant.

Isaac's face softens and instantly felt sorry for this girl and the cards she was dealt. He felt a connection being formed. He knew all too well what it felt like to be abandoned. A sudden protectiveness of her overcame him slowly- then all at once. He laid his hand on hers and gave it a comforting squeeze to let her know that she was not alone. Malia looked up at him with those doe eyes of hers and offered a weak, watery smile to show her thanks for his touch.

She looked back down at their intertwined fingers, running her soft, delicate fingers down Isaac's palm. He hooks his finger underneath her chin to get her meet his eyes. Her breath catches and her heart leaps at his handsome face being so close to her own.

"You won't be sad forever, Malia. There will come a day that will seem like any other day. But that day will come when you look at that boy and smile because you won't feel that ache in your chest anymore" He spoke seriously. "My last girlfriend… Allison, she died two years ago. Man, sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday" Isaac paused, this was the first time he's spoken her name out loud since her funeral and he feels his heart constrict. Malia runs her hand down his face and cups his cheek, letting him know that it's okay to not speak and that she is there with him. With a newfound courage, he continues, "Anyways, she died saving me and my friends. And yes, it still hurts, but I'm not crippled with grief anymore. It still hurts and I miss her a lot, but I've accepted what happened and moved past it. That's actually why I'm here. I just moved back today to be with my friends again after everything that happened."

Malia listened attentively and rested her head on his shoulder, whispering her condolences into his ear, her breath warm against his neck. She started to shiver from the cold and Isaac pulled her closer into his side. She didn't notice him looking at her. It hurt to look at her. She sat so effortlessly beautiful surrounded by the iridescence of the moonlight and the wildflowers that littered the ground. If he never saw her again, this is how he would remember her. His pretty, little Wildflower.

They sat there for another hour or so exchanging stories of loss, love, and lighthearted liquid courage. He even got her to laugh again which brought a smile to his face. The talked and talked until the sun started to rise over the horizon. Isaac soon discovered that Malia Tate was a puzzle with a missing piece, ever the enigma. He liked the poetry of Malia. He wanted to know all of her in the most intimate and innocent of ways, like if she is a morning person? Does she prefer coffee or tea? Did she have any siblings? What does she look like when she wakes up in the morning with the sun shining on her?

"Why are you looking at me like that, Isaac Lahey?" She questions with an adorable scrunch of her nose and confused look on her face. "I fancy you, Malia Tate." He replies like he's known it his whole life. "You make me feel like a dangerous woman" She comments offhandedly, but still looking him in the eye. "Oh, Miss Tate, I'm in danger, that's for sure" Isaac says with a crooked smile that just might have touched her own crooked heart.

"I should probably get back home before my dad realizes I'm gone… but I'm happy you stumbled upon me, Isaac. I hope I see you around" She speaks earnestly. "I can guarantee you will" Isaac replies with that stupid smile that she's already grown fond of.

"Bye Isaac" Malia says, walking off into the trees.

"Good night, Malia…" Isaac whispers. But Malia still hears him with her coyote senses and blushes all the way back home. What Malia didn't realize is that something was set in motion that night. She did not realize that a second storm in the form of Isaac Lahey was going to come crashing into her life and what that would mean for her.


	2. I Hate U, I Love U

Malia woke up the next morning to the sound of her phone ringing. The screen read "Banshee Babe". Malia snickered and smiled at the nickname she had came up with for her strawberry blonde friend.

Her and Lydia had gotten close recently, basically attached at the hip. They had gone to the movies together, went shopping, and had sleepovers full of bad horror films, junk food, and cheap alcohol. It was a nice change from the old frenemy vibes she used to get from the girl she now truly calls a friend. Annoyance and a thinly-veiled tolerance for each other quickly became a deep, unspoken mutual respect and love.

She answered the call and held it up to her ear.

"Hey Lyds, what's going on that made you wake me up at this ungodly hour of the morning?" She asked jokingly.

"Mal, how do you even have time to get ready in the morning if you don't get up around this time? Hair, makeup, and an outfit don't just do themselves, you know. Anyways, that's besides the point. I just wanted to let you know that the gang is skipping school today and having a much needed bonding time together at the beach. Ya know, alcohol, music, a bonfire, and those annoyingly loud fireworks... The whole sha-bang. So I'll be by to get you in half an hour, so shower and be ready to have a good time. And look good! I mean you always do... But a certain ex-boyfriend is going to be there" Lydia informed her.

"But Lydia..." Malia sighed. Lydia had already hung up, knowing Malia would try to protest and back out. She wasn't going to tolerate Malia letting Stiles have that kind of power over her. Malia was amazing, and Lydia was confident that Stiles would realize what an ass he's been lately.

Malia was anxious. She was finally starting to do well in school and was afraid that ditching would get her behind again. Especially in math. No amount of Lydia's notes or tutoring could help her with that. And she wasn't exactly in a hurry to see Stiles again and continue to be ignored as if she didn't even exist. At school, it's like he looks right through her. She is merely a ghost to him now, a walking reminder of the horrible things he has done and can't take back. Malia just didn't understand. She had been supportive and understanding. Did he really think that she would look at him differently? She sometimes gets flashbacks to when they had met in Eichen House. He had said to her, "You may not like me very much if you know more" and she had replied, "I won't judge, I promise." And she had meant it. She still does. Malia has killed, they all have... Well except for Scott and Lydia. She just didn't know why he was only shutting her out. She remembers the car ride that was the final straw in their diminishing relationship. She had told him that she notices more than he thinks she does, and she distinctly recalls the guilty expression in his light brown eyes. It was gone before she could blink and the stoic mask went back up. He had his guard up again, and she couldn't reach him anymore. He was so far away from her.

She had always seen the way he looked at Lydia... I mean, how could you not? Whether he realized it or not, Stiles wore his heart on his sleeve and had a very expressive face. Malia could always pick up on the underlying sense of longing in his chemo signals when Lydia was near, especially at the beginning of their relationship. At first, she thought that it was just a misunderstanding on her part. She hadn't been human for very long, so she just assumed that she was reading the signals wrong. But with Lydia being in Eichen and the hospital recently, the chemo signals had become more potent, the looks more frequent, the softness in his voice has increased when he says her name, and the shadow that passed over his face when he found out what Theo had done to her was void.

In a way, Malia always knew. When she had thought about it over and over, she couldn't really blame him for loving Lydia. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful. She was intelligent and always said the right thing. Lydia always figured everything out. She was vibrant, feminine, and full of life. Malia thought of herself as pretty, she supposed, in a natural kind of way. She was blunt and aggressive. She always needed to be reminded of what a human would do and right from wrong. Malia was starting to get the hang of it, but she would never be Lydia.

Malia has always been really hard on herself.

She began to think of her and Stiles connection. When he was around her, he was a completely different person. He was funny and caring and protective and spastic and so Stiles. He was always worried about her and she loved the way his lips would pucker and the goofy smile that stayed on his face after she kissed him. Malia loved every piece of him. She had seen some old photographs of him from his earlier high school days when he rocked a buzz cut. She had a small cut out of one of the pictures in her wallet. She knows she would have loved him, even then, all throughout his awkward, immature years. Malia is certain that if she had been around, she still would have looked at him like he was the only boy she had ever seen. She's never told anyone this, but she loves his moles. She would distract him from studying by greeting each brown dot with a butterfly kiss until he would ditch the homework completely and give into her. Other times she made an invisible path between them with her fingers, creating mini constellations in his skin. It reminded her of their first date when Stiles took her to a drive-in just out of town to binge watch the whole Star Wars trilogy. She hadn't really understood what was going on and was content just watching the delight dance across his eyes as he sat fully enthralled in the films. However, it was important to him, so she had given it her best effort to pretend to be interested.

So while Malia believes that Stiles still holds a torch for Lydia, she knows that he loves her. Or at least he did. She wasn't so sure anymore. But she knows that no one can fake a kiss the way he kissed her. Stiles: pink lips and stained cheeks, a glimmer in his eye that was reserved solely for her. She's never asked Lydia if she harbors any feelings for Stiles, afraid of the response she would get. If there ever came a day where Malia worked up the courage to question Lydia about it, she would accept it if it made her and Stiles happy. That's all she had ever wanted for him. She once heard someone say that if you love someone, let them go... And if they come back to you, then they're yours forever. You know you love someone when their happiness is your own, even if it isn't with you. With that being said, she would accept a relationship between two of the closest people in her life, but Malia isn't sure if she would ever truly move on. Stiles was her heart, her chosen mate, and her first love. Gosh, she just misses him so much. She would give anything for one more night of bickering over who was going to be the big spoon that night when they went to bed, him explaining the importance of pizza and why he believes it's better than deer, or the long drives they would take together with the windows down and the music echoing through their ears. Could her heart ever let him go?

Her mind begins to drift to Isaac. If she's being honest, he is one of the most handsome guys she has ever seen, and she's seen plenty. I mean, do you seen the boys she hangs out with? They're all attractive in their own ways. But there's just something about the way his dirty blonde hair curls around his ears, those intense cerulean eyes that you could quite literally drown in, and those full, raspberry lips that are so kissable it hurts. She remembers the way he looked at her, like he was the predator and the prey at the same time. She knew she had an effect on him as well by the looks he would give her. She loved feeling like a temptation and someone to be desired. He made her feel hot, the skin scorched anywhere he touched. She swears she can still feel a faint warmth crawling up her hand that he had intertwined with his. He had this way of making Malia feel sexy and free. When Isaac had asked her what she was doing out in the woods so late at night, it was like he somehow already knew the answer. He made her an open book, something she has never been. Malia had always had walls built up around her. Heck, she had a freaking moat surrounding those walls. Stiles was the first person to chip away at the wall, getting the first peak into who Malia was underneath the coyote. Isaac, however, he destroyed that wall like a wrecking ball, leaving her vulnerable and naked to his gaze. It was like he could see right through her. She could still feel him, his presence lingering deep in her bones... And it excites her. The thought of never seeing him again made Malia sad and she didn't know why. He was just a boy, a stranger. A boy who without knowing her, somehow managed to pull an emotional response out of her, like in those cheesy movies where the girl cries to the hot bartender about her demons. She will always be thankful that he did not pity her. She did not like when others felt sorry for her. Instead, he empathized with her, sharing his own personal story about his girlfriend that died. Isaac and her were kindred spirits, one in the same. She really hoped she would see him again. If not in Beacon Hills, maybe they would run into each other in a bar or a cafe... A few years down the line in a random city where they don't know anyone. Their eyes would meet, and it would be as though no time had passed at all.

Malia hears Lydia's car pull up into the driveway. She throws on a flowy tank top and shorts over her swimsuit and heads downstairs to the car. She really hoped the day would go smoothly without any surprises.

 

Isaac, Scott, and Stiles woke up to the aroma of bacon, pancakes, and fresh brewed coffee coming from downstairs. Melissa had decided to prepare a "Welcome Home" breakfast for Isaac. When he showed up at the McCall doorstep last night, he was enveloped in hugs and pats on the back. He had never felt more loved and sure of his decision to come back as he did in that moment. These people were his family. Scott had informed the rest of the pack about the plans to meet at the beach the following morning. He also happened to leave out that Isaac was back. Isaac thought it would be a fun surprise.

"So how was France, man? Pick up any new scarves while you were there?" Stiles questioned, sarcasm dripping from every word. Isaac rolled his eyes and fired back, "So did you finally get a girlfriend while I was gone? Or are you still satisfied being Lydia's doormat?"

Isaac and Stiles had never been the best of friends. Their personalities didn't mesh well together and there was some major animosity in regards to Scott's friendship. Isaac was envious of Scott and Stile's unshakable bromance, whereas Stiles was irritated by Isaac's Beta role in the pack in relation to Scott's Alpha status. It was a bond he would never understand.

"What? Have nothing to say, Stiles? No smart ass comeback or witty remark? I'll take that as a yes to my previous question... Still bending over backwards for a girl who just isn't that into you. But I mean I guess I shouldn't really laugh, it's more sad than funny." Isaac continued to antagonize him with a smirk. He knew he had won.

"For your information, not that I have to explain myself to you... I do have a girlfriend, or well... Did. It's complicated, and none of your business." Stiles muttered and stormed out of the house while telling Scott he would just meet them at the beach.

 

Stiles was fuming as he slammed the door of his jeep, making his way home to take a shower before heading towards the beach. The reminder of Malia grated at his mind, endless images of her swimming around in his head. It taunted him until he had to eventually pull over and come to a stop. He beat his fist against the steering wheel, bruising it to a shade of blue-black. He had been ignoring Malia for the past few weeks and yes, he knew he was the biggest jerk in the world for it. He saw the sadness in her eyes when he would act flippant about her mother trying to kill her. Stiles was afraid to feel. Afraid to care. Every time he was blessed with something precious in his life, he ruins it. He refuses to ruin her. The darkness that has crept it's way into his heart and now runs through his veins would inevitably taint her, sucking away all the childlike wonder she possesses that is rare to find. Malia has always been kind, caring, and loyal to a fault. It's just the way she was. When she had revealed to him that she had known about Donovan all along and that it didn't matter to her, something inside of him snapped. He didn't deserve her love and understanding. Of course, she would disagree with him because she had killed her mother and sister. She would see them as the same. But that wasn't the truth at all. Malia was devastated at what she had done... It wasn't her fault. But Stiles... Deep down, he had his own blood lust. He had liked the feeling of killing, being powerful and in control. He didn't feel bad for killing Donovan. He felt bad about what Scott and his father would think of him when they found out. He didn't regret killing him, and that's what makes him a monster. The motivation behind it is what separates Malia from himself. It made him so angry that she was so imperfectly perfect, staring at him with nothing but pure adoration and devotion. He would never be worthy of a girl like her, so he walked away. He left her behind, something he had promised her that he would never do. Stiles knew he was a coward. Each layer he pulled back from himself made him feel less like the boy he used to be, and more like the beast he never knew he was capable of being. He always found a new flaw, making his inhibited brain go into overdrive. This is one of the causes for his insomnia. He's always had trouble sleeping, but not having Malia there was unbearable. She was his constant. Her hand would always find it's way over his heart as they slept and their legs intermingled like a pretzel. He had grown to rely on her like his lungs needed oxygen. Stiles misses her so much on nights like those.

And then there was the subject of Lydia...

She was the first girl he had ever envisioned a future with. He had even devised a 10 year plan to win her heart, as childish as that seems. He knows it's wrong to love two people at once. Malia and Lydia were completely divergent of each other, and it was a different kind of love he held for each girl. With Lydia, it was like a fairy tale romance. He had thought about what life would be like with her so many times over the years: prom, college sweethearts, moving in together, marriage, and kids. It was the love story he had seen for himself beginning in the 3rd grade when he saw her walk into his class with her strawberry blonde hair up in two pony tails.

But with Malia, it was different.

She was a part of his vision. He saw them taking spontaneous road trips together, exchanging mix tapes while Malia points out which songs are her favorite, adventuring all the time, and an endless number of days of feeling alive and loved. They had made a plan to go backpacking in Europe after senior year, just the two of them. They would stay in cheap motels, discover secrets of every new city, and capture each moment with a photo and a kiss. They would take that year off before college and just live for a little while longer. Survive together. That was the vision, the dream. And it was only a fantasy unless she was a part of it. He wouldn't even fathom doing those things with anyone else. He wanted that with her so badly, but Stiles has began to relive old feeling for Lydia after he saved her from Eichen House. She looked at him like he was a hero. He had always wanted her to look at him like that, not just a kid with a half-assed plan and a bat. And she finally did. Shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he want to be with the girl that was all he saw for years? That is, until Malia came into his life. Stiles has never been more torn on what to do.

 

Malia and Lydia arrived at the beach. The sky was painted indigo, hues of red, and a bruised purple. Kira was snuggled into Scott's side, chatting with Liam and Hayden while Corey and Mason made out indiscreetly underneath an umbrella. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. Malia met her alpha's eyes first and received a nod and that signature Scott McCall smile that lit up his whole face. It was infectious. Her eyes unconsciously drifted to Stiles. She could always find his eyes, even in a crowded room. He met her gaze with one of his own, offered a small smile that didn't completely reach his eyes and then turned to talk to Lydia. Of course, it was always Lydia. She was shaken from her train of thought by Scott announcing that there was a surprise visitor with them. Malia only caught the "...you can come on out, Isaac!". Shock registered all over her face as none other than Isaac Lahey struts out from behind Scott's car with a lazy grin on his face. He turns his head and their eyes meet instantly. They hold each others gaze and everything goes quiet. Every noise inside her head silences as every atom in her body zeros in on him. He's here. She can't believe it.

"Malia... Isaac?" They say at the same time. Everyone is still not saying anything and Isaac continues to stare at her in awe like a blind man who has just seen the sun for the first time.

"Um, how the hell do you guys know each other?" Stiles barks and the moment is over. Malia blushes and looks down at the ground, suddenly finding it very interesting. Stiles doesn't miss it though, the way her blood pools inside her cheeks, making them a rosy shade, contrasting beautifully against her olive skin. He also doesn't appreciate the shit-eating grin he'd love to smack off of Isaac's smug face. Stiles had a bad feeling about this, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.


	3. I'm Virtually Yours

Isaac POV: Malia Tate was a vision. She's didn't even have to try to be beautiful, she just was. Her coffee brown waves fell a little past her jawline, blowing in the wind. She was still staring, bewitching me in those gorgeous doe eyes of hers in the lightest shade of brown I've ever seen, framed by dark, long lashes. She blushed as I held eye contact, and bit her lip, keeping the pretty pink bottom one hostage between pearly white teeth.

My whole body began to heat up when she unconsciously ran her tongue across it... What is this girl doing to me?

Like a man possessed, I walked up her trying to exude a semblance of the confidence I had before, invading her personal space while ignoring the confused looks from the others. Her scent was so intoxicating... I had to physically stop myself from leaning in further, otherwise our noses would be touching. Vanilla, spice, and the fresh scent of rain filled my nose and I knew I was addicted to it. "Maybe I could let her borrow my leather jacket so I'll have a piece of her with me." I thought momentarily. Oh man, when did I get so wax poetic? I glanced down at her lips, making her heart beat speed up. "Hello again, Wildflower."

 

Malia POV: Isaac was so close... Looming over me with a height that demanded attention. And boy, did he have mine. His close proximity sent shivers down my spine, which he noticed, and he smirked devilishly. Oh great, he knows the effect he has on me, that's a weakness on my part. I can't let him have the upper hand. With this in mind, I close the gap between us even further. I know it was a risqué move coming from me, but the smolder he sends my way was so worth it. I can literally taste his chemo signals in the air, beckoning me closer, closer, closer. "Hello Wildflower" he says, breathless. Oh shit, Stiles just asked how we know each other and I was too caught up in the moment that I didn't even notice him speak. That's a first, and it felt surprisingly liberating. Why does he care anyways? He's not responsible for me anymore, isn't he happy? I mean Lydia is standing next to him, gorgeous as ever, exactly where he's always wanted her to be. So what's his problem?

As if Isaac and I were both thinking something similar to "wtf dude", we both simply ignore his question and just... Inhale each other. He's still so close, I can feel him behind my eyes, making a home there. I start to store every detail of him into memory, finding new things about him that I didn't notice the first time due to the lack of light in the late hours of the night. It was like meeting one another all over again. I took in his appearance, starting with his eyes.

His eyes, oh god, his eyes. They seem to have darkened from the cool cerulean I saw the night before to an inky, yet equally alluring, lapis lazuli. They mirrored the essence of the ocean behind us, once again initiating a drowning affect that I would gladly lose myself in. I want to reach out and touch him, to feel the electricity buzzing beneath my fingertips just to make sure he's really here in front of me. Why do I feel so drawn to him?

 

Third Person POV: The pack was at a standstill watching Malia and Isaac having a silent conversation with their eyes. You could see every emotion and unsaid word with each look they sent the others way. It was like witnessing an intricate slow dance of their souls, brown merging with blue. Every one was happy to see the smile on Malia's face. It had been so long since she had shown any genuine bliss with all that had been going on between defeating The Beast, the Dread Doctors, her mother, and her breakup with Stiles. Her rapture had been dearly missed, especially because Malia has always had a deep ecstasy for life and the little moments.

Scott faked a cough to hide his grin, Lydia wore a mischievous smile on her face, Kira looked on with an "awe" expression, the youngsters were confused, and Stiles had an awfully dejected glint in his eyes. Stiles proceeds to interrupt their moment, patience wearing thin, and spits out, "Could you guys quit eye-fucking each other for a minute and mind filling the rest of us in on how the hell y'all know each other? I mean really Malia? Falling for every handsome face you see? I expected more from you, but I guess I shouldn't really be all that shocked. You were practically in love with me the day you met me and gave it up pretty easily on a dusty old couch. I guess that should have been my hint." Stiles was livid at this point but gave off the perfect nonchalant facial expression, as if she were beneath him and he was lowering himself by even speaking to her.

"Stiles! What the heck is the matter with you? Y'all may not be together anymore, but she is still a part of this pack, which makes her family." Scott exclaimed. "Yeah Stiles, how can you be so damn disrespectful to the same person that was your everything for the past year and a half? You're disgusting. I can't even believe you could say that to her." Lydia dismissed him with scrunch of her nose. "Nice move, asshole." Liam barked as him. "You're really not the guy I thought you were, Stiles." Kira spoke with disappointment evident in her voice.

"What? I'm just saying what every one else here is thinking but is too scared to say." Stiles said flippantly with a shrug, as if he hadn't just ripped Malia's heart out right through her chest. And in that moment, he really didn't care how she felt. He could feel his temperature rising, the darkness inside him humming in his veins, eliciting a purr to erupt from his throat. Void Stiles was rattling against his cage, creeping closer to the surface of Stiles' consciousness. He could taste the power on his tongue.

"Fucking apologize." Isaac demanded in an eerily calm voice, fist clenched so tight that his claws sunk deep into the palm of his hand that was now dripping blood.

"As if, Pretty Boy. Did I hurt your little werewolf feeling?" Stiles shot back.

Before Stiles could even blink, Isaac was up in his face snarling, eyes burning a gilded honey, and fanged elongated to a lethal point.

"I said.. Fucking apologize. And don't make me repeat myself or you'll regret it." Isaac bit out, still dangerously calm, fixing Stiles with a steel glare that could scorch the flesh right off of his bones.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Mal-malia." Stiles stuttered out. Stiles was being a monumental ass and he knew it. He just couldn't stop himself from voicing the comments he had made before. It just kept coming up like word vomit. He didn't really think of Malia that way, not at all. He knew who she was better than anyone else, and that's why he had said it. He knew it would sting coming from anyone, but hearing it from him would be like rubbing salt in the wound. He wanted her to feel the way he felt watching her look at Isaac the same way she had always looked at him.

Malia hadn't spoken a word during the whole exchange that had just unfolded before her. She lifted her head with fire blazing in her whiskey irises, meeting his opposing caramel ones that she had once found shelter in. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke for the first time. "I've never been to a place as cold as you feel to me right now. And you know how much I hate the cold because I used to rely on your arms to keep me warm when I, as you put it, "gave it up to you so easily" one too many times." Stiles cringed as she threw his words back at him, but he didn't dare interrupt her. " You know, it didn't even hurt all that much when my own mother called me a parasite and a mistake." She says in a monotone. Malia inches closer and closer with each words that passes her lips. "It didn't even phase me all that much when I found out my own father was an evil sociopath who doesn't give a damn about me. And it sure as hell didn't burn like acid when all I cared about was protecting you and you could care less about my safety. But I want you to remember me. Remember this face when you can't sleep at night. I hope it gives you hell. Because this, this hurts, Stiles. You hurt me. So listen up because I'm only saying this once. I'm not yours to condescend anymore or to warm your bed. And I sure as hell don't owe you an explanation about who I surround myself with. You'd do well to remember that because I've finally realized that I deserve better than you." Malia spoke fiercely with eyes still brimming with tears.

Malia started walking, getting smaller and smaller as she put more distance in between them. Lydia and Kira ran after her, knowing she would need them now more than ever.

The sun was high and shining over the rest of the gang, and yet Stiles had never felt so cold in his life. Mason popped up from underneath his umbrella he had been sharing with Corey and mumbled, "Intense".

 

Stiles POV: I just lost her forever. I used to laugh at people who said that you could die from a broken heart. The look in her eyes when I disrespected her like that, objectified her, shamed her... I'll remember the sorrow on her face behind my eyelids until I'm rotting in the ground. And she is right, she does deserve better than me. I can't believe I said all those nasty things to her. What is wrong with me? How could I hurt Malia like that when she's done nothing but be loyal and selfless towards me? I basically called her the equivalent of a slut, writing her off as an easy lay that meant nothing to me. But she means everything to me. She'll never understand how sorry I am. I could cut out my heart and give it to her as a gift and it still wouldn't be enough. I was the first person Malia had ever trusted to share her body and soul with, her first everything. And I just slut shamed her and made her feel dirty when she is anything but. I don't know how to make her understand what was going on inside my head when I said what I did. How do I show her that Isaac isn't the one for her? I can see that there is something brewing between them, everyone did. It was like Malia was the sun and Isaac was the moon, and I had just witnessed an eclipse happen between them right before my very eyes. I think my biggest fear is that I won't be able to compete with that. What if Malia has already replaced me in her heart? I have to get my girl back... She's it for me, and it took me just now to realize it. I need my baby girl back.

 

Third Person POV: Malia sunk to the ground, tears spilling down her face with Lydia and Kira right on her tail.

"Malia, are you okay? You know he didn't mean that, right? He's just being a jealous idiot. I think he said that stuff because he still loves you and seeing you with Isaac made him open his eyes. I'm not defending his actions because they were wrong and gross, but I know deep down that he just misses you." Lydia said as Kira nodded her head, rubbing Malia's back.

"I'm just so tired, you guys. I'm tired of crying over him, tired of the cold shoulder, and tired of catering to Stiles' man pain. First he shoves me into the background of his life like I'm some plot device to further his vision or whatever. Then he decided that he wants to tie up those lose ends and question my decisions like it's his place to tell me what is good for me. He doesn't get to do that, not anymore. He can't just waltz into my life whenever he feels like it now that he isn't the center of my world anymore." Malia sighs and continues, "Isaac is... I don't know what he is or what is going on between us. I mean we just met freaking yesterday but I feel like I've known him my whole life. I wouldn't call it love because that would be weird, way too soon, and pretty cliche, to be honest. Yeah I might be done with Stiles, but that doesn't mean that I don't still love him. But I feel something for Isaac. He treats me like I'm a person with feelings and worries. He stayed up with me and listened to all my crazy theories about life and the Universe, even if he might not have agreed with all of them. He doesn't talk down to me like I'm a charity case either, I'm his equal. He asks me questions about myself and is genuinely interested in my answer. You guys, he looks at me the way my dad used to look at my mom in the mornings when she would walk around fresh-faced with her hair up in a sloppy bun drinking her coffee by the window sill. She'd have on the most embarrassing pajamas I've ever seen in my life. Malia laughed. She would sip her coffee and read 'Pride and Prejudice', occasionally letting out a giggle at a funny part. And my dad... He would look at her like she was his sun and stars. I always wanted the kind of love my parents had, and Isaac looks at me like that. It's like he knows exactly what I'm feeling before I do. Have you ever felt like you've been missing someone your whole life that you've never even met?" Malia asked her two best friends.

"You know, I've heard that soul mates are someone who knows you like the back of their hand, like the different side of the same coin as yourself. They keep you anchored to earth, and are everything you need to feel whole. These bonds can be between friends, siblings, life partners, or even strangers. I think you owe it to yourself to see which category Isaac falls under. All you've ever known is Stiles, and you may find that someone else fits you better. And if not.. If Stiles is the one, you'll find your way back to him." Lydia spoke with an wisdom far beyond her eighteen years.

"Yeah I mean I didn't get to know Isaac all that well before he left to France, but I could tell that he was fiercely loyal, just like you. He'll always put you first. I think everyone could see that by the way he defended you back there. I mean did you see his face when Stiles wasn't going to apologize? He's so protective of you, Malia. He might just be the answer to every question you've ever had about the 'how's' and 'what if's' of why things didn't work out with Stiles." Kira pitched in.

Malia smiled sheepishly, thinking of Isaac coming to her defense. What she also liked was the way he held his ground and let her take the reins. He respectfully stood by as she spoke her mind to Stiles, knowing that she could protect herself even if he would do it for her in a heartbeat. He acknowledged that she was a bad ass that didn't need someone to save her just because she is a girl. She never knew how much she needed that high regard until now.

Malia pulled both friends into a tight hug, relishing in the love they both provided her. She wasn't known to be a very affectionate person by nature, unless it had been around Stiles. With a surprised squeal, the three girls fell to the ground laughing. Malia felt good and okay for the first time in weeks. She looped arms with Lydia and Kira, walking back to their friends, feeling empowered with each step she took.

The trio arrived back at the beach and noticed that the boys had set up a bonfire because of the crisp chill in the air. Liam, Hayden, Mason, and Corey were already sitting around the fire, making s'mores and telling ghost stories. Scott ran over to the girls and pulled Malia into a long hug. She immediately felt at peace. Scott had a calming effect on people. His presence was like a shot of morphine, relieving pain the longer you were in his arms. He pulled away and grabbed Kira's hand.

"Malia, I'm so sorry for the way Stiles acted. I never would have set up this party if I'd known he would treat you that way. I'm so embarrassed." Scott said sincerely like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Malia was confused. Scott didn't need to apologize on Stiles' behalf, it wasn't his fault. Stiles is the only one the blame. It was his words that had cut her like a knife.

Everyone went to sit around the fire when Malia looked around and noticed that Stiles and Isaac were missing from the group. "Where's Isaac and Stiles?" She asked concerned. "Uh, well I sent them to get some more Vodka because we were out thanks to Liam. I also figured that they needed time to cool down and talk to each other like adults. They're both a part of this pack and they need to learn to get along, or at least tolerate each other." Scott finished.

"You left them alone together? Are you crazy? They'll kill each other!" Lydia yelled incredibly. "They'll behave." Scott said simply. "And how do you know that? Lydia asked perplexed. "Because of her." Scott spoke softly, gazing at Malia.

Malia wasn't used to all this attention being put on her. She wasn't sure how to deal with it.

 

Isaac POV: The car was silent. Neither him or Stiles spoke the entire ride to the store. They got back into the jeep with a slam of the doors when suddenly Stiles decides to speak. "You may have Malia and everyone else fooled, but I'm not buying your nice guy act. I don't believe that you really care about her. You're doing this just to spite me and get in good with Scott. I'll just wait for you to screw up, hurt Mal, and then I'll be there to remind her that we belong together."

"Hmm... So Malia is the complicated ex-girlfriend you mentioned. It's interesting that you think I have to have some ulterior motive to be nice to her. I'm good to her because she's a person and should be treated as such. It's also funny how you act like you care about her well-being but yet you actually hope that I hurt her just so you can have her again. Well newsflash Stiles, Malia isn't a possession or a prize to be won. And she deserves a hell of a lot better than that fuckboy attitude you gave her earlier. I'll be whatever Malia needs me to be for her, even if that's just a friend. And you know why? Because I actually care about her feelings. Try being a friend to her and maybe you wouldn't stick your foot in your mouth. Or don't... But hey, maybe Lydia will eventually take pity on you and confess her undying love, but I wouldn't count on it considering she deserves better than you too. The only difference is that she's known that for a while now and Malia just realized it."

Stiles had no sassy comment to fire back with because once again, Isaac was right.

"Oh and by the way, talk to Malia like that again and not even Scott will be able to save you from me."

 

Third Person POV: The guys returned back to the beach. Stiles stole a glance at Malia who didn't even notice him because she was too busy welcoming Isaac back with open arms. Stiles figured he should let her calm down before he tried to approach her to give her a real apology. He went and sat down on the log next to Lydia where he received an icy glare before she turned away from him. "Great" Stiles thought sarcastically.

"Mind if I sit here?" Isaac asked timidly, worried Malia may be upset with him for stepping in between her and Stiles.

"Only if you go night swimming with me later." Malia replied cheekily, sensing his hesitance. She didn't want Isaac to be uncomfortable or to think she was mad about him interfering earlier. She was happy that he had stood up for her.

Isaac graced her with a crooked smile and sat down next to her, their thighs brushing each others, causing her to feel hot all over. I mean could you blame her? She's been going through a dry spell lately if it wasn't obvious.

"Guys, lets play truth or dare!" Lydia giggled excitedly.

Everyone mumbled their approval. "Okay Malia, truth or dare?" Lydia asked. "Truth" Malia replied. "How did you and Isaac cross paths? And don't leave out the juicy details." Lydia questioned not too discreetly. Stiles simply looked at Lydia and rolled his eyes at the question. Malia looked to Isaac, silently asking with her eyes if he was okay with her sharing. He simply nodded with a smile, because he knew what she was wondering without her even having to say anything. They just clicked that way.

"Well, I was having a bad day so I snuck out of the house when my dad was sleeping. I needed some time to myself so I went to one of my favorite places in Beacon Hills. I guess Isaac happened to be driving back from the airport that same night and we ran into each other. We must have an affinity for special spots because that was also his place when he had lived here. We introduced ourselves, split the rest of my whiskey, and just ended up talking for hours about life and our pasts. I was wallowing in self-pity and Isaac just made me feel better. He told me about Allison, which I didn't make the connection until I saw him come out from behind Scott's car." Everyone's face suddenly turned nostalgic as they remembered their fallen friend. "And the rest is history." She finished, breathless.

Isaac smirked and rubbed the back of his neck, noticing that Malia had left out the more...intimate details. But that was fine with him. He liked the idea of sharing something special with her that was only theirs. The game continued and eventually came back to Malia. Kira asked, "Malia, truth or dare?"

"Dare" Malia laughed with a rebellious sparkle in her eye.

"I dare you and Isaac to go down to the water for the rest of the night. Y'all must have some catching up to do." She propositioned with a wink, knowing what she was doing. Stiles groaned.

Without a second thought, Malia boldly grabs Isaac's hand and whispers seductively in his ear, "Lets go, Wolf Boy." But all the supernaturals, aka everyone but Stiles, heard the subtle innuendo and shared a secret smile. Isaac blushed tomato red, feeling himself go slightly hard at her sultry voice. Isaac never blushed, this girl must be special. "Gosh, she's so hot." Isaac thought to himself and smiled like a Cheshire cat. This woman would be the death of him.

Stiles was annoyed at being left out of the loop, wondering what Malia had said to Isaac causing everyone to react like that. He looked on the couple with envy, wishing it was his hand Malia was holding.

"I'll meet you down there, Wildflower, I've got something I want to show you. I don't usually share this with a lot of people." Isaac mentioned cryptically. Malia agreed and all but sashayed down the beach, giddy to see what Isaac was going to share with her. Isaac ran back to Scott's truck to get his materials. Stiles watched Malia go with a sinking feeling in his stomach, fearing that he would have to get used to the sight of the girl he loved walking away from him.

Malia disposed of her tank top and shorts, leaving her basically naked in her tiny, dark purple bikini. She was so happy Lydia had convinced her to get this one. She tested the temperature of the water, dipping her toes into the shore. The water was warm and inviting, so Malia jumped in, submerging herself in the salty, ocean water.

 

Isaac POV: I walked down to where I'd seen Malia disappear to with a canvas, paint, and brushes in his hands. I spotted her and my jaw dropped all the way to the sand, along with the materials I had brought. Underneath the tempered aurora lights, Malia arose from the water like the sun kissing the sky in the early morning. She once again left me stupefied by her devastating beauty. She embodied the aesthetic that I have wanted to capture on a canvas for so long but could never motivate myself to paint. This was every artist's dream. Her olive skin glowed with golden undertones and water droplets clung to her impossibly long eyelashes, causing a dewy effect that transcended anything I could have imagined. Malia noticed me and smiled as she rung the water out her hair, her stance so natural like she was born to inspire great painters and poets. I've never seen a more ethereal sight in my life.

After Allison died, I had lost my muse. This is the first time I had even looked at a paintbrush in years. Malia has changed that. I knew from that moment that I was stuck to Malia Tate for as long as she would have me.

She stepped out of the water and observed the supplies I had brought. "You paint?" She asked incredulously. "Something like that..." I replied nervously. I felt super insecure sharing this part of myself with her. I want to paint her so badly, but I'm afraid that it will scare her away. "Malia... Would you do me the honor of letting me paint you?" I asked meekly, scared of the impending rejection that I might receive. Malia sucked in a breath. Oh gosh, the suspense is killing me, what is going on inside her head?

She grabs my hand and kisses me on the cheek, her lips lingering a second, leaving my skin tingling. "I would love nothing more." She murmured softly. I thanked her and instructed her to lie on her back in the shallow part of the water. "You could at least take me to dinner first before you have me on my back, Lahey." She chuckles and snorts at her joke. This was like the fifth time I had blushed tonight, but fortunately she couldn't see. "Oh princess, I was saving that for later." I shot back smoothly. "I'm counting on it, Wolf Boy." She sassed back and continued to follow my instructions. I took a seat on a nearby rock and set up my art station. I began drawing the outline of her figure. I produced every hollow of her cheek, the curve of her hips, her angular jaw, the cupid's bow of her lips, and the abstract movement of the water rippling around her. It felt so personal. I finished the coloring of the sunset and told her she could get up when I was done. I'm shaking at this point, thrumming my fingers against my thigh.

What if she hates it?

I turned it around so that she could see. Malia was quiet for a long time, too long. I hung my head, feeling dejected.

I felt Malia grab my face between her soft hands, her slender fingers brushing my curls away from my face. She was so close. Her whole face lit up in pure euphoria. I wanted to see her this way every morning, day, and night. Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?


	4. I'm a Little Unsteady

Malia woke the next day feeling warm all over.

She vaguely remembers her dad coming into her room at night and covering her with her mother's old blanket. She got misty-eyed thinking of the sentimental value embroidered in the wool, missing her mother all the more. It was as if she was there with her, enveloping her in one of her special hugs.

Malia rises from the covers and strips as she gets into the shower to rinse off the smell of alcohol and smoke from the previous night. The hot water scalds her skin as she turns it as high as it will go, basking in the release it brings her. Even if the night turned out to be quite the memorable occasion, her mind inevitably drifts to Stiles and all the hateful words he had spewed at her. No amount of showers could numb the pain Malia felt from his cruelty. She scrubbed every inch of her body to a raw pink, unable to wash away the frailty she felt in the moment. For the first time, Malia felt truly dirty.

"No. He doesn't get to do this to you anymore, Malia." She quietly berated herself, stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. Maybe if she said it enough, she would eventually began to believe it.

She put on her underwear and then pulled on a pair of distressed, boyfriend jeans that hung deliciously low on her hips, complementing them with a vintage "The Smiths" tee-shirt and black combat boots. She ran her fingers through her messy brown curls, swiped some peach-tinted chapstick on her lips, and placed a thin coat of mascara on her eyelashes. She had to admit that she felt pretty as she looked in the mirror, giving herself a mental pep talk to make it through the school day. Malia was never one of those girls who cared much about the fashion trends of the month. She preferred comfort over style, yet somehow managed to pull of the "I woke up like this and I still look hot" look that all the other girls at school tried and failed to mimic. What little fashion sense she had was courtesy of Lydia's lectures on the importance of a little black dress that every girl should own and the benefits of high heels. Malia cringed just thinking about it. On a good day, she would put a little more effort into her appearance, but that was mostly for Stiles. But today, she looked nice for herself, loving the feeling of pride that washed over her at the realization.

She arrived at the school parking lot and leaned against her car, catching up on some reading as she waited for Lydia and Kira to show up. With her heightened senses, she heard the whispers of all the girls in the front lawn of the school gossiping in hushed tones, "He's back from France", "Wow, did he get even hotter?", and "I wonder if he has a girlfriend...?". Malia focuses her attention to the source of the commotion and her eyes land on Isaac straddling his motorcycle, removing his helmet and gracing the female population with a panty-dropping smile that made all the girls in the vicinity swoon. He must have heard all shameless comments being made about him and got the ego boost of his life. "Cocky, much?" Malia laughed to herself, knowing he would be able to hear he with his werewolf abilities. And of course, Isaac would know that laugh anywhere. From across the lot, Isaac distinguishes Malia's voice in the sea of people and finds her eyes, twinkling with mirth. His raspberry lips form a genuine smile as he begins walking towards her with a stride that beckons for everyone's notice. He divides the crowd of hormonal, gawking girls like Jesus parting the Red Sea, except he was anything but holy. Malia's body trembles when he gets close, granting her a grin from Isaac's sinful lips when he notices her body's obvious physical attraction to him.

"Cold, Wildflower?" He chuckles at his own joke, knowing damn well that it wasn't the weather giving her goosebumps.

"And if I am?" She replies smoothly, daring him to challenge her witty response with his own, also throwing in a captivating smile as payback for his annoyingly efficient seduction techniques.

He leans in, his cool breath tickling the shell of her ear. "Then I'll have to do this." Isaac shrugs off his leather jacket, making a dramatic show of placing it around he shoulders.

Malia playfully slaps him on the bicep and giggles, "Why'd you do that? Now every girl at Beacon Hills High School wants to gauge my eyes out." Malia continues to laugh, amused at the thought of any girl here thinking they could take her on in a fight.

"Hey, I have to let all the ladies know that I may be single, but my heart is spoken for." He spoke ominously with a silly grin on his face.

"Where's your heart then?" Malia questions dauntlessly.

"It's in your hands, hold all the power in this situation." He gestures between the two of them. It was important for her to know that everything and anything is on her terms and pace.

"I'll try to be gentle with it." She replies sincerely, her eyes trapped in a sea of blue. They share a knowing smile as Isaac throws his arm around her dainty shoulders and the both of them proceed to walk into school together.

 

Lydia, Scott, and Stiles are standing against the lockers talking about the Sadie Hawkins dance that is coming up next week. Well, it was basically just Scott and Stiles holding a conversation. Lydia was still thoroughly ignoring Stiles for the way he treated Malia at the beach. The red headed girl doesn't know when she had gotten so protective of the werecoyote, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with her last night in Eichen House. The possibility of Malia dying at the hands of her own mother shook Lydia to the very core of her being, causing her powers to erupt out of her and her soul to reawaken with a bone-chilling scream. She doesn't like thinking about her time in that hell hole. She has been trying to quell the PTSD side effects that creep up on her during random moments of the day, like spiders constantly crawling up her arms. These episodes were like a cross between a night terror and sleep paralysis that leaves her in a daze and her pretty face an unnatural shade of white. Lydia breaks out of her thoughts as she spots Malia and Isaac walking through the double doors, Isaac's arm casually slung over her friend's shoulder. They looked awfully cozy. Lydia is elated at this turn of events, knowing that Isaac will be good for her friend. They mellow each other out and he can keep her safe, something that Stiles was never truly able to do because of his human status. Not that it was his fault, it's just how things were. Malia has always been more than capable of taking care of herself, hell, she's probably the strongest fighter in the group. But it's nice to know that she will have someone looking out for her.

Scott and Stiles notice the smirk on Lydia's red lips and follow her line of sight, but Lydia is already half way across the hallway pulling Malia into a hug and complimenting Isaac on his scarf. Go figure.

Stiles suddenly has a bad taste in his mouth, like ashes coating his tongue when he sees the natural chemistry the two already share with each other after only knowing the other for three days. "Cocky fucking asshole. What's with that stupid scarf anyways? It's 65 degrees outside." He mutters under his breath, but Scott catches it with his super hearing clear as day as if Stiles had just shouted it in his ear.

"Okay, look dude. You know I love you and you're my best friend, but you really need to take multiple seats, Stiles. You broke up with Malia. You treated her like shit throughout the end of yall's relationship. And you are the one that is in the wrong here. You basically just continued to ignore her texts and phone calls when you knew how much she was hurting with everything going on with the Beast and the Desert Wolf. That only served to create the distance between you guys. Look at her. She's finally happy and I'm not going to let you take that pretty smile off of her face. I hate to say it Stiles, but you pushed Malia into Isaac's arms. You can't hate him for knowing Malia's worth and going after what he wanted. If it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else." Scott sighed. "I know you don't like Isaac, but it's not like they're getting married or something. You have got to pull yourself together, man, because this is just pathetic. You should have appreciated her when she was yours." Scott finished spilling the truth tea that Stiles really needed to hear. He then went to go greet the couple. Stiles was left alone, looking down to count how many fingers occupied his right hand. If their was an extra appendage, he would know that this was all just a hallucination. It wasn't real. "Please, please" Stiles whispers to himself. This has to be a dream.

 

Scott and Isaac separated from the girls as they made their way to Economics. Isaac loved the view of Malia's hips swinging temptingly in her jeans as she and Lydia walked in the opposite direction. He licked his lips and continued to ogle her, no shame. He couldn't stop thinking about how he needed to make this girl his.

Scott couldn't help but smile at the smitten look in Isaac's eyes as he waited for Malia to walk into her class before diverting his attention back to him. Who knew that the pretty boy with scarves would be all heart eyes and goofy smiles for the bad ass girl with sass out the ass?

"You like her a lot, don't you?" Scott asked knowingly as the dirty blonde boy sauntered into the Coach Finstock's classroom and took a seat.

"Is it that obvious?" Isaac chuckled with pink tinting his cheeks. Oh boy, he has it bad.

"Haha yeah, it is. But that's not a bad thing. Malia is a very blunt, straightforward person. She isn't good at understanding double meanings or catching hints. Eight years without human contact does that to you, I guess. So the best way to get through to her is just being honest with how you feel. Just don't hurt her, she's been through the wringer already with everything with Stiles and all that's been going on lately."

"I don't think I could hurt that girl even if I wanted to. She's special... You remember what that's like?" Isaac asked.

Scott's mind instantly drifts to Allison. She was his first everything. He loves Kira, more than he ever thought he was capable of loving another person again. He sees a future with her, but Allison will always hold her own spot in Scott's heart. She died in his arms... He was too late to save her, but she saved him. Allison saved him. She'll always live on through his memories.

"By the way, what's up with Stiles anyways? I know he obviously still has a thing for Malia, but what about Lydia? Does he still like her?" Isaac asks offhandedly, trying to see how much of a problem Stiles would cause in the development he's made with Malia.

"Yeah he does, but it's different now. It's not the same obsessive love he used to have for her. I think it's a mutual respect for one another. It's healthy and they work well together. I'm not sure how far the romantic feelings go though, if he does still have any for her at all."

Isaac nodded and faced the front. Coach came by and asked Isaac to join the lacrosse team again. He mentioned something about the team sucking since him, Jackson, and Danny had left, leaving him with only Scott and Liam to carry the team. They were hosting a makeup charity game that had to be rescheduled due to the power outage and the Beast going on a killing spree.

"Will Malia be there?" Isaac inquired. Coach stood because his back, gesturing to Scott with a thumbs up and adamant shaking of his head to say yes.

"Uh, yeah I think so, She usually goes with Lydia." Scott stated.

"Great, then I'm in." Isaac says to Coach.

The bell rang and the boys packed up their books, heading out to meet up with the others before their next class.

Malia, Kira, and Lydia were huddled in a circle discussing the game later. Kira would be playing and the other two would support them in the stands. The boys walked over to them and joined the conversation.

"Hello, Werecutie" Isaac greeted Malia with the corny nickname he had came up with for her when he had gotten her phone number the other night. Malia snorted adorably at the name and gave him a playful glare, instantly tucking herself into his side. Everyone noticed the way they seemed to gravitate towards each other.

"Werecutie?! That's genius! I've been trying to come up with a cute name for Mal since she thought of 'Banshee Babe'." Lydia says excitedly, already reaching for her cellphone to change her friend's name in the contacts.

Everyone laughed at her enthusiasm and simply basked in the normalcy of their conversation. It was nice to just be a teenager with stupid problems that feel like the end of the world.

"So Scott says you'll be at the game later?" Isaac looks at Malia expectantly, giving her his full attention.

Before she can even speak, Lydia steps in front of her and and lets him know that she will definitely be there. Malia affectionately rolls are eyes at her friend, loving the feeling of having her there.

"Excellent, I'll be looking for you." Isaac winks at her and heads off to his next class, which he happens to share with both Scott and Stiles.

Scott and Stiles are lab partners, so Isaac takes an empty spot at a vacant table across from them. Stiles is already not in the mood. He stops shooting daggers in Isaac's direction when the teacher comes in and announces that the other Biology class will be joining them due to their teacher having a family emergency. Since they didn't have enough tables to work in pairs, the class would be put into groups of three. Teens start filing into the room when the boys spot three familiar faces. Kira, Lydia, and Malia walk in, scanning the room for empty seats.

Stiles jumps at the chance to get a moment alone with Malia. "Mal, you can sit-"...

He is cut off by Lydia making a beeline for the seat next to him with a satisfied smile. "Thanks for saving me a seat, Stiles." She says condescendingly. Her and Kira share a secret grin as Malia takes a spot next to Isaac, Stiles scoffs rudely, eyes narrowed in Lydia's direction. "Why did you do that? I was trying to talk to Malia." He says in a hushed whisper. "Because I think Mal would feel more comfortable sitting with Isaac. I wasn't going to subject her to hearing your half-assed apologies and an hour of awkward small talk. That's what friends do. Besides, she was going to return Isaac's jacket." The red head replies matter-of-fact, not even sparing Stiles a glance.

Stiles turns and sure enough, Malia is wearing Isaac's leather jacket. How did he not noticed the foreign item on her when she walked in? He must have been distracted by the rest of her. Malia looked really beautiful today. Stiles always recognized that she was gorgeous, and probably way out of his league if he was being honest. However, he never fully appreciated the softness of her skin, the fierceness in her eyes, or the laid back way she held herself that was just so sexy to him. Deep down, he knew it was because part of his attention had been dedicated to Lydia. Stiles immediately felt guilty. Had he always been such a shitty boyfriend?

He looked over at Malia, but something was different bout her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. She had this glow to her skin, like golden sunbeams dancing just beneath the surface. Her eyes shined brighter than usual. And goodness, her smile. It was artless and effortless. That smile could end wars and cure cancer. She looked adorable in her pair of scientific goggles, making her doe eyes appear even larger, more childlike. Malia left him breathless. He felt the air get knocked out of him when he saw her hand covered by his. There was a quiet intimacy about the way they interacted with each other. Stiles jaw clenched, barely containing the string of profanities on the tip of his tongue from coming out between his teeth. He stared at them the rest of the class, jealous of the easy familiarity they already shared with one another. It made Stiles sick.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Stiles all but ran out the door. He stumbled into the hallway, heavy breathing, vision blurred, and gasping for oxygen. It felt like he was losing his mind all over again. Scott caught up with him, concerned at his abrupt exit. He escorted him to the locker room to get ready for the game later.

 

Malia was lost in thought as her and Isaac walked out of class together, recalling Stiles' weird behavior at the end of class. Even through everything, she was still worried about him. She knew that a part of her would always want to protect him. The only difference now was that she made herself a priority as well. Because that's the kicker. The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are important too.

Malia shrugged off Isaac's jacket, knowing that if she kept it, he'd never get it back. And something about having his jacket felt serious, like a whole new significance was being put into the budding relationship they had formed. She didn't think she was ready for that. As if reading her thoughts, Isaac says, "Keep it, it looks good on you. I won't read into it, I just know how much you hate being cold." Malia lets out the breath she had been holding, followed by the tension disappearing in her shoulders, visibly relaxing at his words. Isaac just got her. It was so easy being around him and he understands her reservations.

Is this how relationships are suppose to be? Not messy, complicated, and tragic? Just simple, soothing, and effortless? She wasn't sure what to label her and Isaac's connection and she wasn't in a hurry to do so. Titles are confusing and people get hurt. Malia knows this better than anyone. Besides, it's way too soon. If she gives herself to Isaac, she is relinquishing all of herself, Mind.. Body.. and Soul. She needs time to get over Stiles and sort through her feelings. She doesn't want to start anything serious with Isaac until she is 100% over her ex-boyfriend. The only problem is that Stiles wasn't just some guy... He was the guy, her self-proclaimed mate. And she doesn't take that lightly. She always thought that coyotes mate for life, but what if she was wrong? What if you fall in love more than once?

Malia promises to be at the game and makes her way to her car, driving home to eat dinner and get ready. Her and Lydia arrive at the game and find a spot in the stands. Surprisingly, Chris decides to tag along. The girls had become like daughters to him after Allison's passing. No one could replace his little girl, but it was nice when Malia, Lydia, and Kira would come over to have dinner with him at the house sometimes to help with his growing loneliness. Every person he has ever loved was dead. He hates coming to an empty, broken home where the ghosts of his loved ones seem to linger everywhere he looks. Lets just say, Chris has become quite taken with Bourbon. However, things were better now that Isaac was back. He would spend the weekends with him where they would practice fighting and talk about their travels. The older man has really missed his surrogate son. There would always be a place for him with Argent.

Lydia reached into her Prada bag and pulls out two big rolls of paper. She handed one to Malia, gesturing for her to unravel it. It was a sign that read "Isaac is My #1 3" that she was instructed to hold up, not that she minded. Lydia opened hers and had Scott and Kira's name written in big letters. In addition, if you looked close enough at the bottom right hand corner, you could see the phrase, "...and Stiles too" in small print. Malia had to bust out laughing at that. While it may be childish and petty on the girl's part, it was nice to have someone on her side. She had felt so isolated from the pack when the breakup had first happened. Malia was very grateful to have found such amazing friends in Lydia and Kira. She only wishes Allison was around, and the group would be complete. Malia never got to know the girl very well, but she got the impression that she had been an unforgettable person. Sunshine personified.

The tv guy pointed his camera at them and Lydia grabbed hold of her hand. Both girls lifted their signs high in the air and cheered on their friends. Isaac heard the chants and shot Malia a devilish wink that made her internally squeal, not that she's ever admit that out loud. She thought he looked so hot in his lacrosse uniform. A man in a uniform just did things to her. His abilities and competitiveness on the field called out to Malia's inner animalistic side that was turned on by his wolf side.

There's 30 seconds left in the game and Devenford Prep is up a point. Stiles had the ball and was stumbling down the field due to his lack of coordination. He was close to the net, but Isaac had a better shooting angle. Malia could see the hesitation in Stiles' stance, knowing he didn't want Isaac to be the hero. He looked up into the crowd and found her eyes, whiskey meeting honey, and then he shot the ball. It went in! Beacon Hills won! Everyone lifted Stiles lanky frame up in the air, chanting his name, but all he saw was her. Malia offered him a gentle, half smile and broke eye contact, leaving the bleachers to congratulate the team.

"It's progress" Stiles thought to himself, hope inflating his heart. Maybe she could forgive him one day and let him show her how much of a better man he would be for her.

Malia laughed as Isaac took her into his arms and spun her around in a circle. "Are they a couple?" Some random girl asks, staring at them sweetly. "No. Nope. No, they are not. Friends. Just friends. He's single and she isn't interested. Why? You want me to hook you up with him? I'm your guy!" Stiles rambled on in a spastic fit, motioning erratically with hand gestures to get his point across. The girl looked at him strangely and backed away slowly. "I'm not crazy, ya know!" He yelled after her. Scott, Kira, and Lydia looked at him with mixtures of disbelief, pity, and concern. "I'm fine... I'm fine." Stiles reiterated with a sigh and walked off.

 

Malia walked back to her car. She told her dad that she would be home for dinner tonight so they could spend some time together. She approached her car and noticed a piece of paper caught between the windshield wipers. She plucked it out and opened it up. It read, "SPONTANEOUS NIGHT DRIVE COMMENCES AT 12:00. DRESS COMFORTABLY AND BRING ALONG SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE MUSIC. SEE U THEN, WILDFLOWER. 3 ISAAC"

Malia shook her head, already giddy to know what Isaac had planned for tonight. She got home, greeted her dad with a kiss on the cheek and helped him with dinner. They sat in front of the television and chowed down to Henry Tate's super special spaghetti with deer meatballs and garlic bread, her favorite. They kicked their feet up and watched whatever game was on. Malia didn't know the difference between sports. She just started to grasp the rules of lacrosse. Eventually her dad announced that he is retiring to his bedroom and wished his daughter a good night. She used her amplified coyote speed to race up the stairs and change her clothes. She opted for a fuchsia, knitted top with a pair of overall-type shorts and knee high black boots. With a few curls of her hair and the reapplication of her peach lipstick, Malia was ready to go. Right at midnight, Isaac texted her that he was outside waiting. She decided to climb through her window so she wouldn't wake her dad, grabbing her favorite mixtape on the way out. Isaac was already standing by the passenger door and opened it for her with a silly bow of his head that Malia found really cute. "M'lady" he chuckled and grabbed her hand to help her inside. Now Malia is all about feminism, or what she knows about it and embraces her independence, but what could be more charming then a boy pulling out all the stops for her? He closes the door when she's in and walked around to his side. "The road to discovery begins now" were Isaac's finals words as he hit the accelerator and drove off into the night.

 

Malia POV: Have I ever mentioned how utterly attracted I am to Isaac? He looks like literal sex on legs in his dark blue Henley that accents his eyes and dark black jeans. I still have no idea where we are going but to be honest, I don't really care. I just want to get lost with Isaac. I catch myself staring at him throughout the drive to our destination and I'm not even trying to be subtle. I'm not very good at that yet, kind of like math. I watch as his muscles flex beneath his pale skin, a shade resembling peaches and cream. But what I really love is his hands. Oh god, his hands. Long, nimble fingers grip the steering wheel, prominent veins visible to the naked eye. I wonder what all he can do with those hands...

"Malia.. Maaaliaaa"

"Huh?"

He totally caught me checking him out, but I don't mind. Hopefully I wasn't drooling. I wipe the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, just to be sure. It takes a lot to make me feel embarrassed. Hell, the first time I met Stiles, I was naked as the day I was born. I never understood why people get so uncomfortable with nudity. It's just a body with a chest, a butt, fat, and muscle. Everyone has it, what's to be modest about? I guess my openness has something to do with being in the wild for eight years.

"Can I ask you something?" He questioned quietly, eyes focused on the desolate road that appears sepia underneath the headlights.

"You can ask me anything." I said honestly. It usually rubs people the wrong way at how blunt and outspoken I can be, but why beat around the bush when you can get straight to the point?

"Did your mother really almost kill you?"

"Yeah.. she did."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No... No, its okay. I've needed to talk about this. I need to say everything out loud so I can accept what happened and move on. My mom... The Desert Wolf, She's harbored a deep-seeded loathing for me since the day I was born. She thinks that I stole a part of her powers. You see, when a mother coyote has a child, she naturally passes down some of her power to her offspring. In her case, unwillingly. It's supposed to be a beautiful thing, but she didn't see it that way. She killed my adoptive mother and little sister in an attempt to murder me when I was merely nine years old. Recently, she attacked me at Scott's house when I was there with Braedan. Stiles showed up at the wrong time and tried to take her on to protect me. Skinny, defenseless, human Stiles." Malia chuckled humorlessly. "That got him impaled with a shard of glass. He was able to throw me these specialized claws that suck the life force out of someone. I was weak from the multiple bullets she lodged in my stomach, but I had just enough strength left to dig the claws deep in her abdominal area. I felt her power leave her... I felt her soul swimming behind my eyes, glowing a vibrant, cold blue. She got away, but I know she'll be back. I just... I guess I hope that deep down, maybe she holds a tiny sliver of regret. I wish that she would feel something for me other than disgust. Because whether or not I like it, she's a part of me. When she called me a parasite... I felt like Frankenstein being shunned by his maker, a monster."

I looked over at Isaac and see him watching me, analyzing every emotion that passes over my face. Like I said before, I've never had a problem being naked in front of anyone, but the look of pure admiration on his gorgeous face leaves me hot, unable to breathe, and very very vulnerable. He reaches and grabs my hand over the console, rubbing small circles on my knuckles with the pad of his thumb. He then proceeds to kiss each finger individually and I feel my dam of emotional repression coming undone, breaking at the seams. I've been unearthed. He then gently turns over my trembling hand, imprinting my palm with a tender kiss.

"You'll never be alone again, I swear it." Isaac states with a fierce promise embossed in his deep, throaty voice.

I can feel my heart breaking.

In that moment, I realized that Isaac Lahey has ruined me. I'll never be able to go back to being the girl who gave and gave with all her heart, and in my impulsiveness, loving so hard that I forget that I am special too. I matter too.

"Let's make this night a starry one." I say with a watery smile on my face. I retract my cassette tape from my pocket. I pop the record into Isaac's vintage tap player as the eccentric air of Fiona Brice's 'Berlin' flows out of the speakers, electrifying the aura around them, enveloping the car like a blanket. The night sky is littered with stars, coexisting with the forlorn beauty of the elegiac, wistful melody.

The world stood still. And Isaac and I came alive. We bundled up in the bed of his rustic, antique truck, pillows and quilts thrown around our shoulders. We stared at the stars for hours, talking, laughing, and learning the language of each others bodies. His agile fingers ghost up and down my spine over my shirt, staining me with his fingerprints, leaving the length of my back a quivering mess. I hear his heartbeat against my ear as I lay sprawled across his chest. He plants a strawberry kiss on my shoulder and lights a cigarette, bringing it to his lips. His shirt smells like peppermint and nicotine, a comforting combination that's now ingrained in my clothes. Being with Isaac was like finally getting air when my whole life I had felt like I was drowning. I run my fingers across his jaw, causing him to look down at me. And that's when our lips collide like an epic conundrum.

He felt so good and bad- all at once. His mouth was velvet moving against mine, rough and smooth as I capture his bottom lip between my teeth. He has become a poison in my veins, coalescing cerise and azure into a tempered violet. If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up.

 

Isaac POV: It's 5 am and Kings of Leon's "Closer" filters through the speakers. Malia is fast asleep in the passenger seat, curled up in a ball to keep warm. She's so cute. I feel like I say that a lot. Oh well. I turn up the heater, listening along to the song, when a particular lyric captures my attention, "She took my heart; I think she took my soul" I don't think I could put my feelings for the girl sitting next to me into words better than the way it's described in that verse. Malia has me hopelessly head over heels.

"You crept into my heart Malia Tate, wormed your way into a place that was dusty with cobwebs. And I didn't think it was possible to feel this way. I'm falling emphatically for you. I just can't tell you that yet." I whisper quietly, cautious not to wake her. But even if she had heard me, it's too late to go back now.

My confession, though private, is now immortalized. Even when my bones turn to ash, the sun burns the earth to nothing, and my words tonight are long forgotten in time, it's been written into the void of the Universe. Forever echoing in the wind.

 

Back to Third Person POV: Isaac discovers the door to Malia's house was left unlocked, so he scoops her up into his arms and carries her up to what he presumes is her room. The walls are cluttered with posters of indie bands he's never heard of, a plethora of wrinkled maps surrounded by twinkling lights, and a collage of pictures of her and the pack. The room smells of lavender from the in-scent on the dresser, casting the room in dim, tepid orange lighting. Photos of her family sit on her bed stand, along with a stack of books and cassette tapes. Her room is charming in the way that it illustrates exactly who Malia is. He tucks her in the covers, making sure she's comfortable. With a kiss to her forehead, Isaac takes his leave through the window.


	5. I Loved and I Loved and I Lost You

Malia's alarm clock read 12:00 in the afternoon when she shot awake at the sound of her phone going off. She immediately pounced out of bed, cursing as she stumbled around, awkwardly dodging clothes and shoes laid haphazardly all over the ground. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made quick work of getting dressed. Fearing the wrath of Lydia, she made a beeline to brush her teeth and brush some of the knots out of her short, brown hair.

The girls are going dress shopping for the Sadie Hawkins dance that takes place tomorrow in the high school gym. In case you don't know, Sadie Hawkin's is when the girl asks the guy out instead of the traditional way things are done. And Malia was never known to be "traditional" so she was all for the idea. Being in control is liberating and makes her feel free. Dominant people by nature do not wait to submit to someone else, they take charge... And that's exactly what Malia did.

It usually made girls nervous when they had to grab life by the balls and go get their man. Fear of humiliation and rejection probably had a lot to do with that. For Malia, this was second nature. She was never known for being soft spoken or ashamed of asking anything. Sure, she wasn't an expert on guys, but what she didn't know was only a question away when she has Lydia "Bad Bitch" Martin as one of her best friends. She admired the way the redhead owned her reputation and didn't take anyone's shit. No one dared to slut shame her, because if we're being honest, most of us wish we had that kind of confidence in our sensuality. If there's one thing Lydia and Malia definitely have in common, it's that we both love sex.

Anyways, Kira naturally asked Scott. They were the epitome of epic, high school romance that reeked of dorky awkwardness that was just so endearing to watch. Lydia inevitably forgave Stiles and asked him to go with her for a pity date. She had asked Malia if she was okay with it, in which she had replied that it was. I mean, what else was she suppose to say? Stiles isn't her boyfriend anymore and while she knows that Lydia wouldn't try anything on him because as far as she knew there were only platonic feeling involved, she can't help but consider the possibility of this date developing into something more. She got rid of that thought as fast as it came. Malia hates weird tension. Hates the way it feels, smells, and the faint itch she gets in the presence of it. Therefore, she is always the first person to call someone out on it. So maybe Stiles and Lydia going together will be a good thing. It's time to clear the air and uncover the truth behind all these interconnected feelings between the three of them.

Malia just hopes she'll be able to turn a blind eye to the two if there is indeed an obvious spark in their interactions. The thought of Stiles hands on someone else's skin still makes her heart do that weird thing where it feels like it's sinking into her stomach and the air leaves her lungs.

"It's him, isn't it? That's the one."

Her mother's epiphany still resonates in her ears, the words being carried up into the clouds. What a beautiful lie that had turned out to be. He had been her one, but she just hadn't been his.

Refusing to sink herself into that dark place again, Malia reminisced over the way she had ended up asking Isaac to Sadie Hawkins. They had been sparring together to test her new powers and make sure he wasn't getting rusty in his abilities. It was so exhilarating training with Isaac because he understood what it was like to have his own beast build up on anger and hate. His wolf came to life in the presence of her coyote. They were fighting for dominance, sweaty bodies tense and aching to strike, like a serpent seizing it's game. Unfortunately, they had each perfected the art of patience which drove Malia's impulses crazy. It also didn't help that her hormones were ceaselessly taking control of her body. She could tell Isaac was having the same conflict by the chemo signals that spoke to her like a road sign.

Malia pounced.

With a grunt, Isaac succumbed to her, letting his hand come to rest on her waist. They were both very aware of how close their bodies were together, molding to each other as if it were written in the stars. Their taut muscles began to relax as Malia lay on top of him smirking at her victory. Isaac easily flipped them over, much to her surprise and pleasure. He leaned down until their lips were only a breath apart and whispered with a shit-eating grin, "I win."

Isaac brushed the stray hair away from her eyes and took hold of the back of her slender neck, pulling her up into a heated kiss. There was nothing sweet or innocent about it. Teeth and tongue clashed together, their lips struggling to get just a little bit closer. Isaac's hand found her ass and Malia purred in satisfaction at the contact. This boy just did things to her. Isaac loved the possessive way Malia tugged on his curls and pressed her body flush against his, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin behind his ear and jaw. It drove him insane and left him flustered in the most delicious way. Nothing turned him on more than a girl with a little fight in her.

Breathless, they pulled apart. But just barely. Their foreheads were connected, damp with beads of sweat and their eyes fluttered closed as they came down from their high. Malia opens her eyes and Isaac stares into her pools of brown and blue, the beautiful in-between that he experiences when she is caught in a standstill between her human and coyote side. It's a rare occurrence, like she's carrying the earth in her eyes. The brown representing the dirt that gives life to living things and the blue as the sky that takes it away when our souls pass on. It's crazy the things you notice about a person when you are around them for a period of time.

Malia kissed him again, this time chaste and playful while doing that thing with her eyes that makes him realize that there's no hope for him now. She's it.

"So you know that Sadie Hawkin's dance is coming up and I know it's kind of lame, but I want to go with you. Is that cool with you?" She inquired casually, unaware of the growing smile on his face.

"Absolutely." He concludes with a kiss to her forehead.

"Great." She whispered, trying to hide her excitement. Isaac did that to her. He made her expressive of her feelings which was something so new to her. He made her happy.

They finished up quickly after and went back to her place for a night in with pizza and studying.

Malia was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a horn honking. Kira and Lydia sat outside in the car, impatiently waiting for her to come down.

 

"Malia, that one! That's the perfect dress!" Lydia and Kira all but screamed at her when she walked out of the dressing room. She was wearing a sleek, asymmetrical dress that reached mid-thigh and left her back exposed. Her long, toned legs accentuated the dress perfectly, however, if she bent over, her whole ass would be on display.

"Guys, I can't wear this. You can hardly call this a dress, it's more like a shirt without sleeves. It's basically a second skin." Malia grumbled, pulling at the black and white fabric in an attempt to wiggle around.

"Trust me, you look hot. And you'll thank me later when Isaac can't keep his hands off you." Lydia assured her with a wink. The brunette turned to look in the mirror. She had to admit that she did look good. Really good.

"Fine, but I'm wearing my converse." All she heard was a groan which she took as a sign of acceptance.

 

"Malia sit still, you're going to ruin your mascara." Lydia grumbled as she put the finishing touches on the other girl's makeup. Kira curled the last piece of Malia's dark hair and sprayed it with some hairspray, accidently getting some in her mouth.

"Ugh, ew... Guys, is this really necessary? It's just a dumb dance and Isaac already thinks I'm attractive the way I am." She pouted as Lydia applied some golden highlighter to her cheekbones, making her olive skin glisten beautifully.

"Of course it's necessary! You're going to knock all those guys dead and break some hearts tonight. And I bet it will drive Stiles crazy seeing Isaac fawning all over you and eyeing you like you're something to eat. Literally and figuratively, if you know what I mean." Lydia laughed with a raise of one perfect brow.

"So what are you guys anyways... You and Isaac?" Kira questioned, reapplying her dark red lipstick.

"I don't know... I don't want things to get complicated yet. I mean, I know that I like him a lot, and we just have this complete understanding of each other's emotions. He makes me feel good, mentally and sexually... He's my person. I don't know how else to describe it." Malia lets out a chuckle at the two girls' scandalized expressions.

"I would say friends-with-benefits... But that feels wrong. It cheapens what we mean to each other because Isaac and I are most definitely not just "friends." I have deep feelings for him and I know he does too, but honestly I'm just not ready to put my heart out there again." She confesses with a somber downturn of her lips.

"Well, like the great Augustus Waters said, 'You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you.' So Malia Tate, be bold with who you are, own your sexuality, and don't ever apologize for it. Don't make yourself small." The strawberry blonde spoke with conviction. The topic of boys getting off on making girls feel inferior hit way too close to home, memories of Jackson resurfacing. Lydia could empathize with the werecoyote, except this time Malia would know what she hadn't her first few years of high school. Women are queens, and the sooner her friend realized it, the more likely boys will learn to treat her accordingly. However, she didn't think she needed to worry about Isaac playing Malia, because he adoredher... It was so blatantly obvious to anyone with eyes. It kind of reminded her of the way Stiles use to look at her, except with Isaac, he didn't see Malia as this perfect thing that needed to be put on a pedestal. It was real, mature admiration.

The girls went in for a group hug and did last minute checks for any imperfections. Arm in arm, they descended the stairs. Kira immediately took her place next to Scott, messing with his bow tie until it was straight. Scott was mesmerized by his girlfriend, giving her a long kiss on her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick. Lydia followed behind her, looking like a goddess in red, making her way over to Stiles who had a goofy smile on his face.

And finally Malia made her appearance down the stairs. Isaac swore under his breath and loosened his tie. Ever the temptress, she walked straight towards him with an alluring look from beneath her impossibly long lashes. He couldn't keep the crack out of his voice when he said her name, causing a tinkling laughter to spill out between her pretty lips. Those lips are a sin that he willingly prays for every night. The boy literally couldn't stop looking at her.

And neither could Stiles.

The brown-haired boy watched as Isaac tucked a soft curl behind Malia's ear and led her out of the house, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. Stiles could feel the jealousy running through his veins and the familiar metallic taste in his mouth.

Blood.

His fists clenched and jaw locked, his whole body becoming pallor. There she goes again, walking away from him. As if she had heard his thoughts, Malia looked over her shoulder and stunned him with her warm, brown eyes. Stiles didn't know how much longer he could go without her. A day without Malia is like living without the sun. She had become the glowing ember in his life, filling him with everything he never knew he had needed. There just ain't no sunshine when she's gone.

Malia had a small smile on her face, communicating her forgiveness without saying a word. And Stiles smiled back because he knew. It's amazing how one glance from the girl he loves puts him at ease. Time stood still when she was around, no one else mattered. Stiles loves her so much and it physically pains him that he may never get the chance to tell her. They had never spoken the L word throughout their entire relationship. Not because they didn't feel that way, they just didn't express it that much through words. They had been a couple of action. They had shown their love by the way Stiles would hold her hand after a bad dream or the way Malia would get so fiercely protective of him at the first whiff of danger. Back then they were just Stiles and Malia... And now he didn't know who he was without her.

Stiles turned to offer Lydia his arm but she was already looking at him, an indiscernible disposition marring her pretty face. She dropped her gaze and hooked her arm into the crook of his, never looking at him again. She had seen the way he missed Malia, noticing the wistful eyes he sent her way as she walked out the door. And she didn't know why... But it made her feel weirdly... Resentful. Lydia sensed her emotions changing, her and Stiles relationship evolving into something she couldn't explain... But she never remembers feeling envious of his and Malia's bond. However, she did recall the vague annoyance she had first felt for the other girl when her and Stiles had started dating. It wasn't even because she liked Stiles, it had more to do with the fact that she wasn't his first priority anymore. Lydia liked feeling desired, even if it wasn't by who she wanted. The attention he gave her was always in the back of her mind, making her feel good knowing that someone would always be worried about her. It was never due to genuine, romantic emotions, but now she's not so sure. She figures this dance will be a good way to gauge how Stiles feels about her, while also processing the influx of emotions that hit her all at once.

The gang settled into the limo and headed to the school.

 

The gym was filled with dancing teenager, many whom were most likely drunk from spiked punch. Coach went around blowing his whistle at couples standing too close together. The group separated and split off into their designated pairs. Isaac pulled Malia onto the dance floor as "Exorcism" by Clairity ebbed through the speakers. Their limbs intertwined as he swept her around, their movements lithe and languid as Malia buried her nose in Isaac's neck. His chin was placed on top of her head, inhaling the earthy smell of her hair. He pulled her closer into his arms, wishing he could keep her there, right next to his heart. He wanted to feel the way he does in this moment all the time. If Isaac could capture their little infinity forever, he would.

Stiles beckoned for Lydia to join him just as the song changes to "Where's My Love" by SYML. He holds her and sways to the music, easily falling into old memories of their first dance together sophomore year. Who knew they would be where they are now? The lyrics, "...Does she know that we bleed the same? Don't wanna cry, but I break that way. Did she run away, did she run away? I don't know. If she ran away, if she ran away, come back home. Just come home" fluttered through the sound system with Malia in his direct line of sight. He envied the way her fingers curled around Isaac's hand, the look of pure joy in her eyes because of him... The way she says his name with the gentleness of a prayer.

Maybe he just has to let her go. What if Isaac could make her happier than he could? How do you look at the girl you love and tell yourself that it's time to walk away?

Malia stays snuggled into Isaac's chest, craving the security he gives her in the sea full of people. Over his shoulder, she spots Stiles and Lydia engaged in conversation, laughing and leaning into each other in a different way than she's ever seen them be before. He looks so handsome and his caramel eyes still make her heart skip a beat. Will it always be this way? Or will those eyes become a distant memory... A fond remembrance, like visiting a place for the first time that automatically becomes special to you and realizing that there's a good chance you may never see it again. But you appreciate it all the same for opening your eyes up to new possibilities. Malia didn't have all the answers and for once, she was okay with that. Life was about the journey more than it was about the destination. She excused herself to get some punch and made her way to the corner of the room, catching her breath and people watching. Her phone buzzed and she extracted it from her jacket pocket.

An unknown number had sent her a text. Confused, she opened the message. It read, "Roses are red, Violets are blue, you better watch your back... And your ex-boyfriend's too." Malia gasped, dropping her phone in shock. She picked it up off the floor and instantly became alert, looking for a threat. She text back, "Who is this?" Immediately she got a response. "Isn't the better question where Stiles is? Or maybe what I've got planned for him?"

Malia's heart rate spiked as she pushed through the mill of teenagers, frantically searching for Stiles' lanky frame. She shoved a poor, unsuspecting freshman against the wall yelling over the music, "Where's Stiles? Have you seen Stiles? Do you know where Stiles is?" The frazzled kid furiously shook his head, probably a second away from pissing his pants at Malia's steel grip and sharp tone. She reluctantly let him go and was on the look out for the pack.

She spotted Scott, Kira, and Lydia standing in a group and Isaac making his way over to them. Running over to them in a panic, she asked if anyone knew where Stiles was.

"He said he needed to go to the bathroom." Lydia replied nervously, realizing he'd been gone a while.

Malia concentrated hard, honing in on her senses and caught the distinct smell of blood. Stiles' blood. And a lot of it.

The pack rushed to the bathrooms where the scent led to and discovered splatters of blood on the walls and mirror inside. A piece of paper was stuck to the mirror where the blood had coagulated into a matted mess. The sticky residue caked underneath Malia's fingernails as she snatched it off and opened it. It said, "1-2, Here's a clue. 3-4, Stiles failed to close his mind's door. 5-6, I'm using it to my benefit. 7-8 Don't be late. 9-10 Or else he might be dead."

She crumpled the paper in her fist, trying to keep her tears at bay. She needed to get him back but she had no clue who was doing this. He could be anywhere by now.

The pack was thrown for a loop, not understanding what was going on. Malia informed them of the text she had received. Someone had taken Stiles to mess with her, but she couldn't think of anyone who would be out to get her besides the Desert Wolf. "Look everyone calm down, we'll find Stiles. We just need to come up with a plan." Scott directed with authority. "We just need to think like Stiles" Malia's voice broke at his name, her eyes flickering between her human brown and a cold unnatural blue. "I've got it! Stiles was able to track the sender of that text you got sophomore year that you thought Allison had sent you. It was that night that we all got led to the school when Peter tried to attack us, remember?" Lydia spoke, directing her attention to Scott. "Right! He used Danny to figure it out. He doesn't live that far from here, I know the way." Scott rushed out, already making his way to the door.

Everyone was covered in blood, looking like they just stepped out of a bad horror movie. They split up and met at Danny's house. When they arrived, Scott banged on the door loudly, not caring if he roused someone awake. This was his best friend and he was going to save him. Danny answered, groggy and disoriented from sleep, "Scott, what are you doing here? It's almost midnight."

Malia pushed through the pack and pinned Danny up against the door, not afraid to get aggressive. Her eyes bled blue as a clear warning not to fuck with her... Because Malia was out for blood.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to decode a text message for us and tell us where it came from. You're not going to ask questions, and don't be lax about it. Got it? And this is me asking nicely." Malia bit out, barely containing the monster inside her that was clawing at her restraint to emerge. Her coyote self still recognizes Stiles as her mate, even if her human self has accepted the break up. He was one half to her whole. Stiles being in danger leaves her vulnerable and she'll be damned if he gets hurt because of her.

Danny shook his head, fully aware of how lethal Malia was in that moment. He knew she would certainly deliver on her unspoken promise to severely maim him if he didn't cooperate. The gang quietly crept up the stairs. Isaac took a hold of Malia's hand in an effort to help her cope with the thoughts he knew must be racing through her head. She didn't mean to shrug him off, she just couldn't stand to be touched right now. Her body was on overdrive; she wanted to feel bone and flesh crumple between her hands. She didn't miss his hurt expression and tried to fix it by mouthing "later" in his direction. It was an attempt to placate him, using a smile that was made of glass, ready to break at any moment.

Danny got the coordinates of the senders location which led to an unknown location in the woods. They took off in the direction of the coordinates, praying that they weren't too late to save him. And in that instance, Lydia let out an earth-shattering scream. Death was upon them.

 

Stiles POV: I woke to mind-numbing darkness. If I didn't know any better, I'd think a black hole had swallowed the world entirely and I was simply existing, floating in the ether. I kept coming in and out of consciousness, trying to stay awake from the concussion I most likely had. A deep gash sliced through my skin, just below my hairline, almost down to the bone. With the adrenaline kicking in, I couldn't feel a thing. I'm not sure how I got here. All I remember is a hooded figure ambushing me in the bathroom. They bashed my head against the mirror and everything went black. Foggy bits and pieces are beginning to resurface, slowly but surely. Currently I'm immobile, strapped to a rusty chair with hand cuffs digging into my wrists and multiple cords sticking out of the it.

Where am I?

Hello? Is anyone here? My voice echos, bouncing off the walls and eerily drifting off into a flat silence. The quiet is unsettling. The hairs on my arms and back of my neck are on edge and my skin begins to crawl.

I can feel eyes on me, watching. They're terrorizing me just by the knowledge that there is another living, breathing person in the room that hasn't uttered a word. And the worst part? They could be right beside me.

I feel my throat close up and suddenly I can't breathe. I recognize the on-coming panic attack before I even feel the effects of it.

"Tsk tsk, what am I going to do with you, Stiles? You can't possibly be of any use to me this way. Oh no, no, no... I need you, but stronger. More... Void." A sickeningly demented voice chastens him condescendingly.

I can feel the stranger's hot breath fan across my face, making my blood run cold.

"We're going to playa little game, okay? I'm going to ask a question or describe an incident and you're going to go along with what I say. Give me an answer that I don't like and you will be punished, understand?"

Stiles croaked out a faint "yes" and thought of Malia, holding onto the image of her. He remembered her hair, her voice, the softness of her eyes, and the way she smelled. She may be the only way he'll make it through this. And if he doesn't, he wants his last thoughts to be of her.


	6. Itching on a Photograph

Stiles POV: I woke to the feeling of my body being pelted with ice water, drenching me to the bone, causing me to go into temporary shock.

The stark contrast of the sweat on my brow and the harsh coolness of the water makes me instantly alert of my surroundings. I hesitantly reach up and press my fingers to the aging wound on my head. To my surprise, there's a heavy-duty bandage wrapped around my it. Whoever took me must have patched me up while I was unconscious. I shudder. The thought of someone being in my personal space, free to violate my privacy and analyze me without my knowledge makes me cringe in disgust and a puff of panic to overtake me.

My vision is swimming from the smell of the chemicals and fecal matter that perforate the expanse of the modest-sized room. My heart jumps when I hear a low voice call out to me.

"Wakey, wakey Stiles. Did you have a good nap? I went ahead and treated your wound since I'll need to have you fully aware during our games today."

It's then that I realize that I'm no longer confined to the chair from earlier, but am now chained to a dirty, chipped wall covered in peeling paint by my hands and feet. It turns out it wasn't a great time to use my sarcasm as a defense mechanism and comment on how this was a little too "50 Shades of Grey" for my style. That earned me a hard slap across my face, banging my head back against the wall with a resounding 'thud'. My lip oozed blood from the cut and dripped to the floor beneath my feet.

The room is still a blinding dark, but there's a flicker of light from a nearby candle that slightly illuminates a corner of the room. Unfortunately, it's not enough to identify my attacker.

"So tell me about your pretty, little girlfriend... Malia, isn't it?" The same hollow voice chuckles endearingly.

"Malia...? What does she have to do with anything? She's not my girlfriend. Did you not hear? I dumped her little coyote ass, she means nothing to me." I improvise quickly, hoping the lie isn't evident in my voice. I needed to feign indifference to keep her name from passing this person's disgusting lips.

"Wrong answer, Stiles."

I see the sinister glint of the blade in their hand just before white-hot pain shoots through my sensitive nerves as the hooded figure runs the tip down my pale skin excruciatingly slow, reveling in my screams. My veins flood with liquid fire at the deep laceration continues to slice down my arm in a jagged line.

"What did I say about lying? I told you that you would be punished." The voice reprimands hotly before placing the knife back on the table with a bunch of other scary looking torture devices.

My breath comes out ragged and fast, but I stay silent. I don't want to this sick monster to have the satisfaction of seeing how much the burning pain is affecting me. Malia always protected me against the world, now it's time for me to protect her.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment, Stiles? That's fine, I can talk enough for the both of us. Now listen, I want you to think about Malia. Conjure up the image of her in your head. Can you smell her? Vanilla, fresh rain, and a hint of spice... Her fragrant scent hugging your nose? What about her hair? Can't you just imagine the feel of her silky, brown tresses in between your fingers? And her lips... Just playfully teasing the shell of your ear... Picture it. You love her, don't you?" The deep, charismatic voice chuckled patronizingly, mocking the agony I'm sure was evident in my expression.

Hot breath fans my face, every atom in my body hyper-aware of the stranger's close proximity.

"Are you thinking of her, Stiles?"

"Yes." I croaked.

"Good... Now I want you to scream." The voice sneered, caressing each syllable as it rolled off their mouth.

Sharp claws sunk deep within my abdomen and my cries for mercy echoed off the walls, falling silent just before they erupted from my throat again with a twist if the their wrist.

"We'll continue this tomorrow. Sweet Dreams."

They leave the room and then I'm alone once again, wondering if the inky blackness encased in these four walls are the last thing I'll ever see.

 

Void POV: He doesn't know it yet, but I'm coming. Chaos, strife, and pain... I feed off of it. Stiles constant fear arouses something primal inside me, eliciting pleasure that brings me to my knees and the air to leave my lungs. I'm over a thousand years old, did he really think that he could kill me that easily? I've got a hunger in me, and I'm insatiable.

 

Third Person POV: The night grew heavy as the pack tore the woods apart in search for Stiles. The air was stagnant and reeked of anxiety, leaving Malia feeling very on edge.

The group was quiet as they took a second to gather their thoughts. Breaking the thick silence, Lydia's hollow whisper reverberates through the trees, as if they are mourning alongside her.

"What if we don't find him?" She asks as fresh tears leak from her mossy green eyes.

Malia turns to face her friend and crouches down to her level, taking her small frame into her arms.

"We are going to find him, Lydia. Stiles is smart and stronger than we think. He always figures a way out of a bad situation. You can't think like that, because wherever he is, he'll feel us giving up on him, you understand?" Malia murmurs softly, running her fingers through Lydia's fiery mane of red hair.

"But it's my fault he is gone! I should have known- or felt that something was off. I didn't before, but I can sense it now... Deep in my bones. We have to find him soon, or something bad is going to happen. What's the point of these stupid powers and voices in my head if I can't save anybody?"

Isaac wraps his scarf around Lydia's shoulders as she cries into Malia's shoulder, her small body wracked with sobs.

"I think we need to get some sleep and regroup when the sun rises tomorrow. And I really think we need to inform his dad on what's happened. He deserves to know." Scott spoke calmly. He tries so hard to be the level-headed one in the group and protect everyone. Malia knew that it took everything in him to walk away right now, but they had no other leads to go on. The scent they had caught disappeared a while ago.

They agreed to meet here tomorrow morning. Scott welcomed Lydia to stay at his house with him and Kira, knowing she wouldn't want to be left alone with her thoughts in her big, empty house.

Isaac and Malia decide to crash at the werecoyote's house and start getting ready for bed.

Malia stripped naked, modesty be damned. She slipped quietly into the bathroom and was taken aback by the forlorn, feral girl that stared back at her in the mirror. Her brown eyes were sunken in with blue-black bruises forming underneath them from sleep deprivation. Mud and dirt was caked into her dark hair and blood painted her skin like a canvas.

She mirrored the girl she used to be, the newly turned human who laid helplessly on the cold, hard earth of the woods, frightened and alone. That was who she was without Stiles. It's crazy how she views herself in two distinct parts: life before Stiles and life after Stiles. It's a grand evolution of time. She had been shot out of paradise, stuck in the wreckage, because it was never a place for her to stay forever. The profound effect a single person can have on you never ceases to amaze Malia. Somehow, out of 7.4 billion people circulating the planet, the stars had aligned in the off chance that she got to meet the love of her life.

Her ravenous eyes glistened with unshed tears, making them appear glassy like a child. She turned on the shower as hot as it would go and was prepared to step in when she caught sight of Isaac huddled in a ball in the corner of her bedroom. His fear of thunderstorms caused him to seek shelter in the only way he knew how.

Malia walked over to him and pushed the curls off his clammy forehead with her hand, taking his in her own and kissing his palm.

"Stay with me, please" She pleaded, pulling him with her towards the bathroom filled with steam and into the scalding water of the shower. Smooth white skin melted into bronze as Isaac and Malia silently washed each other clean of dirt and grim. They always found a way to fix the broken and bent parts one another.

Bubbles erupt around them, shining opalescent as Isaac lovingly washes Malia's hair, massaging her scalp to ease her mind. With her back turned away from him, leaning against his broad chest, she gives in to the hot tears making wet trails down her cheeks. She figures that Isaac won't be able to distinguish the salty liquid from the running of the shower, this way she can appear strong while being enveloped in his steady warmth.

Isaac places a searing kiss on the back of her neck, trying to comfort her and convey to her that he understands her sadness and isn't threatened by her feelings for the other boy that occupies the other half of her heart.

He is a werewolf, so of course he can taste the saltiness in the air, even with the foggy atmosphere masking it slightly and the hot water lashing red against their backs. Isaac hates to see her cry.

He gently spins her around to face him, adoration and patience shining in his ocean eyes as he cups her cheek and wipes away her tears with the pad of his thumb. Malia can feel his love consuming her whole, drowning her in the most beautiful way, and she doesn't want to come up for air. That's the moment she begins to believe that there is a God. Because there is absolutely no possible way that Isaac Lahey stumbled into her tumultuous life by chance. Falling in love with him isn't an accident.

She places the soapy towel on his bicep and takes great care in washing him, taking her time memorizing every crevice and line of his body. The scars on his torso don't go unnoticed. She introduces herself to each one with a light kiss, silently asking Isaac to let her love him as he is. It's not a cruel trick.

There's nothing sexual in the way they are taking care of each other right now. Their nakedness is raw and a part of life, nothing to be embarrassed about. Their sole purpose is to take a shower in the simplest way it can be put. Both of them are aware of the open intimacy they share, whether or not it's expressed through sex or just having a meal together. Malia and Isaac both had their own respective thoughts that they needed time to process.

Isaac wasn't envious of the fact that Malia wept for another boy. He knows that she still loves Stiles, and he's okay with that. He's said it before, he is irrevocably stuck to Malia Tate and will be there for her to hold her hand through every obstacle that comes her way. He'd gladly wait until she was capable and ready to love him with the same fervor at which he loved her. Isaac had never been a very patient guy, but he's began to find new pieces of himself in her. Every time those gorgeous, whiskey eyes grace him through long dark lashes, he knows he is home. God, he loves her so much, most ardently in the every sense of the word. When you find love like this in a girl like her, you can't just walk away.

The closing melody of Vancouver Sleep Clinic's "Aftermath" could be faintly heard through the crack in the bathroom door. Malia grabs Isaac's hand and places it over her heart, then bringing it to her lips as they ghost over his knuckles.

The water runs cold and the two step out of the shower hand-in-hand and don't bother drying off as Isaac pulls on a pair of sweatpants and Malia opts for an oversized tshirt. They find comfort in the silk sheets and migrate towards each other, her tiny body fitting naturally into his arms. When her eyes close, Stiles lives beneath her lids, calling out to her for help. She knew it was just a dream, but she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut, telling her that it was real.

 

Stiles POV: She came to me in my dreams. Her gentle smile is glorious in it's luminescence, the only thing keeping me grounded to this world. The Nogitsune is knocking on my door, beating it down with cumbersome fists.

"I've got to hold on. I've got to hold on. I've got to hold on" I chant the mantra like a broken record player, the words that keep me fighting for control of myself.

I have to believe that my friends are coming for me. They'll find me.

My body aches, every inch covered in a burn, bruise, or blood. The sun hasn't graced my eyes in I don't know how long. Time is meaningless, time blurs together in the prison of these four walls.

"Malia, help me. Please don't leave me behind."

 

Kidnapper's POV: I'm breaking his soul, slowly eradicating every innocent, human aspect of him. I can feel the Nogitsune right beneath the surface of Stiles' withering hold on reality. 147 pounds of pale flesh and fragile bones lay defeated in the distressed, molding chair he now occupies.

I need this to move faster, his friends will eventually figure out where he is. I'm so close to getting what I came here for, but I just need to fray the tether between him and his anchor. How can I taint the significance of what Malia Tate means to him from his whole being until all that is left is a void shell of who Stiles once was?

I make my way over to the boy, his broken body battered and beaten to a swollen, purple pulp and blood spilling out of his open cuts. I've got to say, I admire the fight he has within him, and to think that's it's all for this one girl.I admit, I'm mildly impressed, but repulsed by the fact that she makes him so weak. He's capable of so much more. He just has to give in to the monster inside him.

"Stiles, open your eyes."

His light brown eyes open, noticeable years added onto them from the torture I've inflicted on him. He's become an old soul at a mere seventeen.

I sink my claws into the back of his neck, causing his meek body to violently convulse and foam to form in his twitching mouth. Each memory of Malia awarded Stiles with a fresh stab of a blade, a direct punch, or new scar to add to his collection. His cries of protest don't stop me from violating his mind, laying him bare for only me to see. I can feel him fighting me, trying so hard to hold onto what's left of Malia, scared that I'll damage every beautiful piece of her in his memory.

It may seem sadistic, but I'm only training him, molding his dormant powers into who and what I need him to be. The stimulus of pain in coexistence to anything remotely related to Malia will eventually evoke something inside him to snap, his mind distorting every precious memory of her into a deep-seeded fearful response. Her name will cause anger and hate to rush through him, making him want to kill her on sight. She will merely become an association with every bad feeling that Stiles has ever had.

I release him from my hold as thick, black liquid ejects out of his body through his mouth, coating the floor in him vomit. The light in his eyes dims to a murky brown, blood swimming in his irises.

"We're almost done, Stiles, just let go." I tempt him like Lucifer himself.

He tenses up at the sound of my voice gnawing at the little resistance he's so desperately holding on to.

"I can't let her go..." He whispers in a monotone, his eyes blank of any emotion.


	7. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

Malia POV: I couldn't stop shaking from the cold air that blew in from the open window. Isaac was fast asleep beside me, his strong arms sprawled across my stomach that did little to ease my growing anxiety or the erratic thumping of my heart. I turned over to look at him, gazing at the lazy, soft smile imprinted on his lips... His curls sticking out in all directions, wild and untamed.

I tried to fall back asleep, but I couldn't face the dreams that haunted me when I shut my eyes. Everything felt so real... Like it was actually happening and I was a physically and mentally aware of everything that took place. Could it be some weird form of astral-projection? Was it really just in my head?

I think back to the images that stay burned to the back of my eyelids. Stiles laid helplessly strapped to a chair, so unnaturally still. The body that I had come to know like the back of my hand is mutilated beyond recognition, black liquid staining his swollen lips.

I could smell the putrid odor of mold and urine polluting the air. My head spun from the nauseating fumes, realizing that the urine was in fact coming from Stiles. How long had they kept him in here?

Stiles watched me from the corner of the room, his once youthful eyes now vacant and flat, lacking any indication that he even sees me. It's as if he's looking right through me, staring outright at the wall behind my back. His once boyish, caramel eyes now strike me hard with how they now appear a soulless ebony. They were so dark that I could barely distinguish the pupil from the iris, and they told a frightening story.

He had Hell in his eyes. And all the demons had escaped.

Stiles reached out to me with jittery fingers, muttering something unintelligible too quiet for my ears to understand. I feel like I am underwater, every sound blurring into the other.

"Maaallliiiaaa..." He hissed. My feet move without my consent, drawing me into his orbit like a gravitational pull. I wasn't in control anymore.

An insidious snicker parts his black lips, striking fear into every nook and cranny of my heart. It sounds so... Evil. Every piece of the Stiles I loved was gone. All that was left was broken remnants that mirrored him. He was only an empty shell.

He leaned over to hover above my ear, running his nose down the length of my neck. The iciness of his touch makes my skin crawl. Stiles used to be home. And now I am homeless.

"He's coming for you 'Lia, and your blood will be the first of thousands that he'll lick off his fingers. He will revel in it." Stiles whispers. His maniacal laughter rings in my ears. I feel faint and begin to sway, the four walls of the room caving in on me until I can't breathe.

And that's when I woke up.

 

Stiles POV: I am living a nightmare in an endless loop. Images my friends dying flash before my eyes. Scott.. Lydia... Liam... Malia. They're all dead. In every vision they die in different ways. Scott maimed and torn apart by our enemies, Lydia shattered by the very same voices that take up residence in her head, Liam laying slaughtered on the ground, and Malia... Drowning in her own blood.

I couldn't filter through my memories, couldn't sort out what was real and what was not. Suddenly Malia appeared in the corner of the room, a beacon of light... Looking like a fallen angel in white. She slowly walks towards me, well more like floating by the way her ivory dress sways across the dirty floor. Somehow, she remains untouched by the scum and filth that brushes her bare feet.

Her small hands caress my bruised cheek, easing the pain with a simple touch. Her usual sunshine skin, however, is a ghastly white.

"Malia, what happened to you?"

Her expression turns grim.

"Don't you remember, Stiles? You killed me. You did this to me. Why did you hurt me? I thought you loved me." She cries loudly, hot angry tears dripping down her beautiful face. The tears turn to blood, continuing to coat her face and pour out of her ears and nose.

"Mal, what are you talking about? Why are you bleeding?! You know I would never hurt you, I love you so much. I couldn't have done this. Please don't leave me, stay alive, I'm begging you!" I scream, thrashing around in my seat, needing to break free. I have to get to her, she needs me.

"You did do this, Stiles. You took my life away, beat me down, crushed my soul... Just like Donovan. And just like Allison. You're a monster." She spit out fiercely.

Her dress disappeared and Malia lay unmoving on the ground, black tar-like liquid covering her broken, naked body. A lone tear escapes her dead eyes as they stare back at me, shining in unadulterated fear.

This can't be real. But what if it is? What if I killed the only light I have ever known? My mind isn't my own anymore, my memories tainted. Am I dreaming?

Her body still lays on the ground, fresh blood pooling around her. I scream and kick and shout her name over and over, begging for her to forgive me... To come back. I pull my restraints free and rush over to her fragile form and cradle her in my arms. I place my hands on each side of her face, smoothing the hair away.

"Malia, please baby, wake up! Open those pretty eyes for me and I'll never let you go again, I swear it. I can't do this without you. I need you to come back to me."

Tears cloud my vision. I close my eyes and pray for the pain in my chest to stop. It happens so fast, like the flip of a switch. My eyes click open, brown darkening to onyx. I felt so far away, like I was in my body but not, pushed back far into the recesses of my mind. I woke up in a stark white room, chained to the Nemeton that I was all too familiar with. I could still see through my eyes, yet I could feel that it wasn't myself looking out. Malia's body was gone, any evidence of her being there at all disappeared. So I had to of been dreaming...

A low husky voice calls out my name, following me every direction I turned. What's going on?

"Hello Stiles, it's good to see you again."

It was the Nogitsune. He's in control now.

 

Third Person POV: The pack assembled together in the woods at the crack of dawn. The grass glistened with morning dew and the sky glowed orange and pink. Liam, Mason, Hayden, and Corey had joined them after Scott informed them on what had gone down at the dance the previous night. Malia pulled the crumpled note they had found in the bathroom from her pocket and held it to her nose, inhaling any scent that may still be attached to it.

She tapped into her senses, willing herself to dig deeper and focus on the variations of smells etched in the paper. Lydia stood behind her, walking around in circles with a perplexed expression on her face.

"He's close." She stated. Another minute or so passed and she continued, "I have this tingly feeling on the back of my neck. I don't know... But he isn't far from here." She finished uncertainly.

Liam began walking around, observing the scenery when suddenly he felt the ground underneath him give away.

"Oh god, not this again. Guys, I fell in a hole!" He yelled to the gang who was already on their way over to help him out.

"The scent... it's coming from down there!" Malia exclaimed, already jumping in behind Liam.

The smell became stronger the farther she went down. A small door with a latch was visible underneath a pile of leaves.

"I've smelled this before..." Malia says to herself. However, something was different about the scent, it's sweeter, almost sickly. "It's... Theo." Her voice breaks slightly, trying to understand how this could be possible. He was dragged to Hell by the spirit of his sister, how could he still be alive?

"He must have had help escape" Scott ponders, remembering the look on Theo's face when he asked him to save him. He deserved everything that he got.

"Well, only one way to find out" Isaac shrugs and jumps down into the hole, lifting the hatch that leads to a passage of tunnels.

The gang follows one by one, splitting up into groups to cover the series of pathways faster. Malia couldn't help but growl thinking about Theo abducting Stiles. Her mind flashes back to their time together. He had played Malia and everyone for fools, leading them into a false sense of security while planning on murdering Scott in cold blood. What really pissed her off is that she had trusted him and he repaid her by lodging a bullet in her chest. For some reason, that betrayal shook her. He even had the audacity to confess that he regretted doing it as she lay bleeding out on the cement ground. In a weird way, she thought he may have felt something for her, not that she would have reciprocated any of those feelings. She was too stuck on Stiles to give anyone else the time of day.

Maneuvering through the labyrinth of tunnels proved to be a challenge until she picked up on Stiles' scent. They began to move faster. Malia, Lydia, Scott, and Isaac turned the corner of the concrete wall but stopped abruptly when they hear the end of a muffled conversation from behind a heavy-set door made of mountain ash. Someone was on the phone.

"I did everything that you asked, now what about what I want?" A gruff, male voice asks hotly. The voice on the other line sounded feminine, "You'll get what I promised once she is dead."

They couldn't make out who the voices belonged to. They heard a shuffling of feet and scrambled back behind the corner, waiting for the person to come out. The sound of boots squeaking against the ground caught there attention and then disappeared again behind another door.

 

Theo POV: They're here. I could hear their heartbeats when they stepped foot into the tunnels. Ever since I returned from Hell, I am stronger, faster, and possess more keen senses. I made a deal with the Devil himself and now I am a god. Never again will I be a failure. I catch the distinct smells of Scott, Lydia, Malia, and another that I don't recognize. Too bad they are too late. Stiles is gone and he's never coming back. I think I'll keep the bit about Malia being here to myself for a little while, no need for the Desert Wolf to know all my playing cards.

Oh Malia. Beautiful, strong, fearless Malia. I've got to say. I can definitely see what Stiles saw in her. She is unlike anyone I've ever met, the only person who managed to evoke any genuine emotion out of me. She radiates warmth and her eyes burn so bright. The girl is so stunning in her fury, vibrant and sexy. I'll never forget when she straddled me on the desk of Deaton's office. Her brown hair messy in a disarray and pink cheeks, each punch even more ruthless than the former. In a sick way, I got off on the pain she bestowed on me. Each hit and kick shot waves of pleasure through me as I tried to keep the groan from escaping my lips. I had loved that side of her. Her hatred was like nicotine, and I used her to get my fill. However, all good things must come to an end eventually.

I couldn't start to care about her as a person, otherwise she would have became a weakness. I remember the timid trust in her eyes when I offered to help her take down her mother. She had looked at me with so much trust in her eyes. I remember staring back, relaying them to memory, knowing it would be the last time I saw them. I crave power, not love and I am a selfish creature by nature. So I shot her and watched the burnt sienna of her eyes as the fire left them. I didn't stick around to watch her die. I may be a monster, but I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to do that.

If Hell helped me realize anything, it's that you live alone, die alone, and suffer alone.

I put my cellphone back in my pocket and walked out the door, knowing they were close. I wanted them to find Stiles, or at least, his body. Because the person in the next room definitely wasn't Stiles anymore. I made sure of that.

 

Void POV: I stare at the hand of the vessel that I am possessing. Big, veiny hands and long nimble fingers enter my view. I lift it and move it around in different motions, marveling at the realness of my situation. I'm finally back and no one is safe.

The door opens and for the first time in days, the light is turned on. My borrowed eyes are exposed to the beams and ache at the directness of it.

"Hello Void, I'm Theo. I'm the guy that helped release you, so now you owe me." A tall boy with dark features introduces himself.

"You know, you really shouldn't trust a fox." I chuckle, elated in the way he visibly squirms at the lifelessness of my tone. I break the weak restraints tying me to my seat with a flick of my wrists. The Theo guy backs away slowly, hands up in surrender.

"Look man, I can help you. You still have a weakness without me."

"Oh? And what would that be?" I ask, amused with the back and forth.

"As long as Malia Tate is still alive, there's a chance that she can pull Stiles back to the forefront. She's his anchor and will never stop fighting until she gets him back. They're in love and will find a way to each other if you don't get a handle on her. Side with me and I'll help you kill her. All you have to do is help me defeat Scott McCall and gain his Alpha status. I don't care what you do with the rest of them."

With this new information in mind, I can't let Stiles take over again. I have to eliminate any opportunity of him keeping a foot in the door of his mind that connects him to his power of wielding control. This is my body now and I will burn this world to the ground.

"You've got a deal."

 

Third Person POV: Malia, Scott, and Lydia hurry after Theo while Isaac stands watch. The werecoyote's heart pounds in anticipation of seeing Stiles again. He is right behind this door. With an impressive round-house kick to the door, it gives away to her amplified strength and falls to the ground with a loud thud.

"Malia, I'm so happy you're here. You're just in time." Theo cockily smirks in her direction.

Malia growls, preparing to pounce when a familiar pair of brown eyes catch her attention.

"Stiles?"

"Guess again, Sweetheart."


	8. Terrible Love

Malia POV: The electrical buzz in the air could be felt by every person in the room. My skin sizzled being in the presence of Stiles again, every molecule that makes up my body burns for him. Except somehow... This isn't Stiles.

I heard the stories of the evil spirit that had possessed Stiles a couple years ago, the bringer of chaos, strife, and pain. I hadn't been told much because it was a sensitive subject for him and none of the pack liked being reminded of the outcome of those events... Losing more friends and pack members... Aiden and Allison.

I can feel a dull thump in my ears, as if my heart resides there now. He still smells the same, honeysuckle and cinnamon... The aroma that had been my lullaby every night with the fears of the Desert Wolf lingering in my every thought. I take a tentative step forward, his soulless eyes consuming me whole with each movement. Suddenly, I am pulled back by a dark, firm hand on my shoulder.

"Malia, don't make another move. We can't trust him, that's not Stiles anymore. It's the fox playing with your head." He warns lowly, eyes still stuck on the demon imposing himself in his best friend's body. His eyes flash a rich crimson, most likely hoping his Alpha eyes will make me submit to him like a good little Beta.

But when have I ever been known to submit to anyone?

"Scott, I have to do this. I have to bring him back. I don't know how, but I have to try."

I shrug his hand away and continue my analysis of the boy in front of me. I remain sanguine in my hope that the boy I love is still in there somewhere. I'm not naive enough to believe that I am his only anchor, considering all the people in the room that have formed significant bonds with him before I was even a factor in his life, but just maybe I can rouse some emotion through my eyes. Perhaps our silent communication wasn't severed completely.

He still looks the same except for the dark, bruised shadows that lay underneath his eyes that vaguely resembles Stiles after a restless night of hushed pleas and panicked cries. He never did tell me what kept him up at night, not wanting to discuss the nightmares that left him gasping for breath in my arms. He would clutch onto me like I was his only life line...Those nights were always the hardest.

Shaking out of my thoughts, I take bold steps towards the uncertain fate that awaits me. It may just be my mind playing tricks on me, but I swear his eyes seem to be colored impressed by the way I'm holding myself together even if I'm scared that each crunch of my combat boots may be my last. His leering eyes devour me but I don't let the cool expression leave my face.

Stiles may be far away right now, but he is still here. I can feel him. He's still the same boy who was my first love. The same person who knows the exact spot to kiss behind my ear that leaves me weak and flustered, the one who knows my secret fear of being left alone in my house when my father isn't there, and the same boy that knows the road map of my body... Every freckle and birth mark that trails my skin. He has to be.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the weary expression on Theo's face. I bet he wasn't counting on me throwing caution to the wind the way I just did. He looks at me dead on and I can almost see a sense of regret on his handsome face. But that's the problem with Theo, he only feels inklings of real human emotion or none at all. Those little snapshots into his mind will never be enough for me to ever genuinely want to know who the real Theo is beyond the devastation the Dread Doctors made him to be. It's a shame really, with all the likeness that we share, we could have been really good friends. Maybe in another life time.

"You're going to have to get closer than that" Void Stiles tempts me, his voice leaking honey.

I take another step forward... "almost there" I think to myself.

"Closer" He coaxes me even further.

Inow stand before him, skin on skin... Breath against breath. My hand reaches out to him on it's own accord, running my fingers over his blue-hued eyelids. He sighs in contentment. With shaking hands, I smooth the crease between his brows and play with the hair on the back of his neck. I've missed being like this with him so much, even if it's not fully him.

I don't meet his eyes but I can feel him burning holes into my head. His chemo signals give off a spark of confusion and even... Recognition?

"Stiles, come back to us... To me. I know you can hear me. You have to fight for it... You have to want it bad enough." I plead, hoping wherever my Stiles is, he knows that I believe in him and I won't give up on him.

I know how much of a risk this is, but I need him here. I never thought it was possible for your whole world to come crumbling down without that other person there to hold your hand through the difficulties life throws at you.

"I know this is a terrible love we're caught in, but I wouldn't change it for anything. Stiles, I can't live in a world where you don't exist. I refuse to."

Unbeknownst of Malia, Stiles hears her voice from whatever dusty corner of his mind that he's been cast aside in. 

His familiar hand raises to finger a silky strand of my hair and then tucks it behind my ear in a loving manner.

"Malia..." He gasps, his eyes softening to a chocolate brown.

Shards of Stiles' soul are starting to peek out and the Nogitsune is internally struggling to maintain control. "Know your place, boy." He proceeds to push Stiles back for the time being but decides to play along so her and the pack watching won't suspect that Stiles' is still alive and closer than they think.

He pulls me to him, his grip tightening around my waist and kisses lingering on my forehead... His nose buried in my hair.

He weeps, "I can't believe you brought me back. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you, I'm such an ass. I swear I'm going to love you will all that I've got. Even if it kills me, you're the one that I want."

I breathe a sigh of relief at the embrace of his arms, lost in the essence of him. The pack watches from the door, skeptical looks being exchanged between them.

"How are we sure that's really him? The fox is a genius at faking us out." Lydia whispered conspiratorially, eyeing the the couple from across the room.

"That was too easy... The fox is over a thousand years old. He wouldn't give in that quickly." Scott murmurs back, careful not to speak too loud.

Suddenly something changes. His hold on me gets harder, more rough. I look up at him and those gorgeous chocolate eyes deepen to black once again. The collective shouts of my friends to get away from him seem so distant. Before I know what's happening, a shock wave of pain explodes through me as if I had been electrocuted, charring me alive from the inside out.

I stumble and fall to my knees as the aftershocks of pain temporarily paralyze me. Hurt flashes across my amber eyes as I look up at the source of my agony. A slimy smirk that doesn't belong on Stiles' face enters my vision, his face twisted in insanity. He bends down to my height, but I do not cower. A cold, pale finger makes a path down my temple to my quivering jaw and finally stops at the slope of my neck.

His mouth caresses my ear and purrs, "Is that really all it took? A declaration of love and a few tears to have you eating out of the palm of my hand? You know, Theo here claims that you are Stiles' weakness, but maybe it's just him that it yours. You couldn't even bring him back... Hmm maybe Lydia wants to give it a try?" Laughter follows his voice, unknowingly hitting a nerve. My biggest insecurity has always been not knowing Stiles' feelings for Lydia especially with all the history they shared. Maybe it was her that could get through to him...

Void catches a single tear rolling down my cheek with his thumb and sucks it off his finger, amusement shining in his eyes.

"I'd watch out if I were you Lydia, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I guess I shouldn't bring up those pesky, little feelings about Stiles that have been driving you crazy with jealousy, should I?"

I turn my gaze to Lydia, waiting for her to refute what he said. Lydia shook her head fiercely trying to deny it, but the truth was written all over her face. She looked back at me with a guilty expression, soon replaced with sorrow and remorse.

"Malia, please... You have to believe me. I didn't mean for this to happen. You're my best friend, please don't hate me. I never meant to hurt you!" She cries, tears streaming down her face, smudging her mascara.

And so the truth comes out. A part of me has always known, but I can't muster up the strength to look at her. I ignore her pleas and cries of forgiveness. I knows it's not Lydia's fault that she loves Stiles too, but betrayal bleeds hot in my veins as my eyes frost over to a glacial blue.

Without any warning, Void's fist plunges through my chest, squeezing the palm of his hand around my beating heart. Screams erupt out of me, my breathing comes out choppy and erratic, and blood pours out of my mouth, splattering to the floor. One wrong move or a mere turn of his wrist and I'm dead.

Everyone freezes at the sight of his hand penetrating my body. Scott lets out a ferocious howl, Lydia's piercing scream cuts through the air, Kira's eyes turn a fiery orange, and Theo has a terrified expression on his face.

"Void, this wasn't a part of the plan!" Theo yells, trying to distract him from pulling my organ out.

"Yeah... I've decided I work better alone." He sasses back.

"Malia... I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. I just needed him to become an Alpha. I didn't mean for you to be collateral damage. I wasn't actually going to let him hurt you." Theo says to me, begging for me to understand.

"You mean the way you hurt me?" I shot back with an icy glare.

Suddenly Isaac bursts through the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of Malia choking on her own blood, Stiles' arm impaling her small frame. Every thought in his head falls to nothingness as the acidic flavor of unparalleled fear coats his tongue. 

"Malia"

"Isaac, nice of you to finally show up. Is this suppose to be your knight in shining armor, Malia? Well as much fun as this has been, I've got places to be, people to kill. And Malia here is going to take a walk on the wild side. I'm sure we'll run into each other again." With a snap of his fingers, we're surrounded by a mass of black smoke.

Then everything went dark.

 

Third Person POV: Lydia is hyperventilating, small puffs of air barely making it between her chapped lips.

"She hates me" She says to herself.

Malia finally knows the extent of her feelings for Stiles and she couldn't even look at her. Lydia mulls over how she could be so selfish to desire the boy that she knows her friend is in love with. On top of that, she is terrified of losing the werecoyote, whether that be at the hands of the Nogitsune or of her own doing.

Flashbacks of losing Allison force their way into the front of her mind. Another friend in the clutches of Void once again and Lydia feeling useless. In her mind, Lydia knew that Stiles wasn't responsible for the death of the huntress, but a sliver of her heart can't help but secretly resent him for it. Blame and bitterness rush through her.

"Guys, what the hell happened? Where did she go?!" Isaac shouted, his eyes shifting between blue and gold. He lays eyes on Theo cowering in the corner and snarls at him. Scott and him grab the chimera in their hold, restraining him from fleeing.

"What did you do?" Isaac seethes, fangs ready to strike.

"I-I wasn't actually going to hand her over... I told him I would help him kill her if he took you guys down. I was going to play both him and the Desert Wolf who also wanted Malia, for my own gain. Her mother was suppose to get me those specialized claws again, because in my new form, I can use them now without them killing me. I told her I would trade them for Malia. I had a plan to keep Malia hidden from them... This wasn't how it was suppose to go."

Isaac shoved him to the ground and proceeded to punch the shit out of him until his teeth chipped and blood caked his body. He then threw the unconscious boy over his shoulder.

"We're getting my Wildflower back."

A look of determination passes the groups' faces and they leave the room, meeting up with Liam, Hayden, Mason, and Corey at the entrance of the tunnels.

 

Void POV: So here she is, the infamous Malia Tate in the flesh. This girl really is something. I was thoroughly turned on when she walked up to me without any fear. Confidence oozed in the way her long, lean legs strutted towards me, her thighs trapped in those barely there booty shorts. Damn, I might have to keep her around for a little while...

I can see why Stiles switched out the busty redhead for this dark beauty. But hey, the little strawberry blonde had been a tasty little thing. I remember trapping her in tunnels similar to the ones from earlier, her tight body at my mercy. I recall how I ran my tongue down the side of her face... Her sweet and salty flavor making me moan. Mmm, I bet Malia is even better.

Besides, she's more up to my liking anyways: glistening ebony hair, romantic eyes, a tantalizing mouth, and looks a little dangerous. Nothing brings me greater pleasure than corrupting something so tragically beautiful, like a blooming flower wilting under my touch. Maybe if I strip away her humanity until she's free to embrace her animalistic nature, I can make her my Queen.

But if not... If she doesn't willingly bow down to me, I can simply kill her. She's strictly alive right now due to my pure, unfounded curiosity. What about her makes Stiles tick? I intend to find out. I could even see the effect she also has on Theo and Isaac. Does she have every guy in Beacon Hills wrapped around her finger? It's like this brilliant light follows her everywhere she goes. Even my wretched heart is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. But I'm not weak, I won't let her get to me like the others. Because even if she is a burning wildfire that illuminates this ugly world, she could bring everyone and anything to her knees if surrounded by the darkness I know she has within her. With every fire brings the potential of grand destruction.

Her wound seems to be healing quite quickly even while she's unconscious. She's a powerful one, isn't she? The power radiating off of her is exquisite. If that Theo guy is right, she could be my undoing. But if I play my cards right, she just might be my strength.

 

Third Person POV: The group met back at Scott's house to form a plan. Lydia, however, sits unmoving on the couch with catatonic eyes. She hasn't uttered a word since they left the compound. The only way the pack knows she's aware of them is the slight twitch of her brow in response to their planning and the thrumming of her fingernails against the coffee table.

Mason moves to sit next to her and grabs her hand as a sign of comfort. He had grown fond and protective of Lydia ever since the wine incident at the party that took place at her lake house. She was like the big sister he had never imagined wanting, but was so happy to have now.

Isaac paced the room. The walls felt like they were getting smaller and smaller and would eventually close in on him. It brought him back to that dark place in the freezer of his childhood home's basement.

Out of nowhere, Lydia let out a wail and began thrashing around uncontrollably. Mason tried to keep her from hurting herself by keeping her arms at her side. She let out another scream and finally snapped out of her stupor when she saw the blood coming out of the boy's ears.

"Mason.. I'm-I'm sorry. I don't know what I was doing."

"Lydia it's okay, it's not that bad. We'll fix it."

The redhead shoots up out of her seat and races to get a wet cloth to clean his ears with. She has to keep busy, anything to rid her mind of the look of betrayal that marred Malia's face. What if that was the last thing the brunette remembered her by? She vividly recalls the barely concealed disgust that Malia couldn't hide at finding out Lydia's deepest, darkest secret.

"Hey, what if we went back to Stiles' house and Lydia tries strumming those strings in his room again or maybe listening to the tape player from her lake house? That's helped us before. Maybe you can find Malia, you always discover the bodies." Kira offers, trying to remain the eternal optimist.

"Yeah, I find the dead bodies, Kira." Lydia scoffed back.

"Hey Lyds, I know you're going through a hard time, but Kira's only trying to help, cut her some slack." Scott defends Kira, putting his arm around her.

"I know... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just feel like everything is my fault and the thought of what Malia must think of me right now has me upset. I just need to find her so I can explain and make sure she's okay. I'm just so tired of losing friends." Lydia directs her attention to Kira and bows her head in shame.

"If I were an evil fox spirit, where would I go?" Liam butts in.

"Maybe we should go ask Peter. He was the big bad for a while, maybe he knows where the Nogitsune would take Malia, Hopefully he'd be willing help since Malia is well, you know, his daughter." Isaac adds, matter-of-fact.

"I think that's a good idea. Peter isn't always trustworthy, but I do think he cares about Malia. Lets go talk to him." Scott announces.

The pack makes their way out the door to find Peter.


	9. Won't You Be My Livewire?

The gang arrives at the loft where Peter lives. He'd spent so much time there when Derek was still in town that it basically became his self-proclaimed bachelor pad when his nephew skipped town with Braedan.

Entering without an invitation, they found Peter casually lounging on the leather couch in front of the tv with a glass of scotch in his hand. Without turning around he taunts,

"Breaking and entering, Scott? That's not very becoming of a True Alpha such as yourself. Didn't that beautiful mother of yours teach you any manners?"

With a classic Peter smirk, he swirls around and takes in the teenagers that now occupy his living room. However, he notices that the only one he actually cares to acknowledge isn't with them.

"So... Where's my daughter?"

 

Malia's POV: My limbs ache from being stuck in the same position for god knows how long. With each twist and snap of my muscles, I feel my body begin to slowly loosen and the numbness fading from my head to my toes. Where am I?

My mind is foggy, but inevitably the memories of the past events come bubbling to the surface, only serving to make the dull thumping in my head escalate to a deafening roar.

Stiles.

He hurt me. Well, not him, not really. The monster walking around with his face. He's here and I can feel him on me. A distinct smell that's so sickly sweet fills the room, latching onto every surface of me: hair, skin, and clothes. It reeks of Stiles: honeysuckle and peppermint, but so much stronger that it physically pains me to inhale large quantities of air. The scent is just beginning to lessen slightly so he must have been in here recently.

Scott once told me in times of peril and anguish, to look to my friends. Focus on them: Their scent, facial expressions, meaningful memories, things to keep them close to me.

Oh Scott.

He's become the brother I never had. He has always been there to remind me that I'm not a monster. He would tell me how it's okay to feel and be vulnerable because that's what humanity is and that there's nothing more courageous than letting yourself depend on someone else. He has become one of the few constants in my life, taking me under his wing when I felt so alone. I remember the night he changed me back. I laid helpless and naked on the ground and never in my life had I ever felt like I could break at any moment, a bird without wings. I'll never be able to repay him for showing me so much kindness. And I would give my life for his if it came down to it.

Kira.

What a damn, beautiful soul. Where I am harsh and brute strength, Kira is gentle and shows power in her optimism, that is unless you threaten her friends. In that case, she'll go all fox spirit on your ass. I truly believe that she and I are kindred spirits. In another life, we would be those best friends who sat up on late nights talking about boys, movies, and the ways of the universe. Instead we go to school by day and battle supernatural villains by night. She is the first girl I've ever trusted to share a secret with, to stay the night at her house, or to just let her hug me openly. I'll always value Kira and remind her how amazing she is.

Lydia.

Oh boy, this is where it gets complicated. Lydia and I's relationship had been rocky from the start. We weren't enemies, but we weren't really... Friends either? It was more like we had a mutual goal in mind and we benefited each other in that way. And I mean, of course some of that initial reluctance to get to know each other outside of the pack probably had to do with Stiles. Lydia and I really came to realize how much we loved and needed each other when the whole Eichen House thing happened. I looked at her, I mean really looked at her. She was so pale and lifeless laying on that bed, nothing like the girl I knew. And I had this overwhelming need to protect her. I would have given anything to see that bitchy gleam in her eyes that I had grown to admire and the random facts she would spew at me during our tutoring sessions, or even her nagging to take me shopping. And now we have another obstacle in our way, her being in love with Stiles. I mean on one hand I get what she sees in him because obviously she has eyes and duh, he's indescribable. But on the other hand, she had so much time to love him back. I know all about the crush he used to have on her and how she dismissed any and all advances he had tried to make with her. Why does she have to want him now? I just can't... I can't forgive her for it. Not yet, at least.

And lastly, Isaac.

Where do I begin? He saved me. He pulled me out of the dark abyss that I was quite literally drowning in when no one else could understand what I was going through. Because Isaac had been there, seen grief first hand. Those two have plenty of love lost between them. I don't think I've ever met a soul in the world who simply gets every part of me the way he does. And yes, I love him. I love him so damn much, but is it fair to love him and still have every part my being light on fire in the presence of Stiles? I know it's not. I know that no matter what happens, I can't live without him. I need him in my life in some capacity or another. Is that selfish? Yes. But I never claimed to be a selfless person. He looks at me with a special softness in his eyes, a man stricken by love like lightening. You know I've never been one to believe in all that angsty, teenage bullshit like true love and twin flames and happy endings until I met Stiles. And then I stopped believing all together, writing everything off as a illusion. And then Isaac changed everything for me. He made me realize that I don't have to carry the world on my shoulders and that I'll always be enough. Maybe... Just maybe it's possible to have more than one soul mate in a single lifetime.

My thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of the door being opened and in walks the Fox.

 

Third Person POV: 

"So let me get this straight... You're telling me you and your pack of morons with an infinite amount of power let my daughter get taken by the Nogitsune when he was largely outnumbered? You bunch are useless." Peter rants and rolls his eyes as he takes a long drag of his scotch. However, the slight tick of his jaw gives him away. He's worried.

"Oh yeah, like you're father of the year or something? You have no room to talk, Peter. Does bloodthirsty, evil sociopath with an alpha complex ring any bells?" Lydia shot back with her usual "bitch what" expression smacking him in the face.

"Look, we're here for your help. Do you know anywhere he could have possibly taken her? You're cooperation just might, oh I don't know, save the life of the girl who you love to call your 'daughter', yet you haven't shown any desire to actually be a father to her." Isaac breathes out, fuming from his spot by the door.

Peter's fist clenches around his drink, evidently Isaac has struck a nerve. He surprisingly looks ashamed as he breaks eye contact with the dirty blonde boy and stares at the flames in the fireplace.

"I think I may have an idea of where she might be. Follow me." He makes his way to the door, his somber eyes showing that he cares way more than he wants to let on.

 

Void POV:

"There's my pretty, little girl. Did you miss me?"

Malia is huddled in the corner of the room, fury blazing in her eyes as she holds her ground with a defiant raise of her chin.

Stunning.

"It looks like you're all healed up now. Sorry about all that punching a hole through your chest. It was all for your friend's benefit, I'm a fan of the dramatics. Lets let bygones be bygones." I chuckle as she continues to ignore me.

She lets out a growl, a low and guttural sound that vibrates in her throat. She's a frisky one, ay? That just makes this game all the more exciting. With her eyes scanning my every move, her body is on the offense, crouched and ready to pounce. Yet, she stays silent.

I crouch down and take her jaw in between my fingers in an attempt to keep her in place. Malia's eyes glow an ethereal blue and she grabs my wrist in a steel hold, jerking my hand from her face. And she most definitely isn't gentle about it. Her power... It's magnitude calls to me as my face twists in pleasure even with the pain she caused me. The pain and pleasure running through me is delicious and I can taste her fear and power on my tongue, it's like a shot of heroine. She lets out a disgusted snarl and backs into the corner once again.

"Why are you keeping me here? You haven't killed me yet, so what do you want?" She asks boldly with crazed eyes and her hair flowing around her like a halo. There she is, that's the girl that could be a Queen.

"Well Malia, like I mentioned before, I want to know what it is about you that makes Stiles stronger. Once I find it, I'll snuff out that flame and then there will be no way to bring him back. This vessel will belong to me. If you're good, I just may keep you around by my side. Such a beautiful, powerful girl like you shouldn't go to waste. Of course, you'll have to kill those pesky friends of yours to prove your undying loyalty to me. They're only holding you back from unleashing your inner monster, the animal that could tear this world apart. We can rebuild this place in our image. All you have to do is say yes."

Malia sits there in contemplation. Is she really thinking about joining me?

She gets up of her place on the floor and takes long, hard steps towards me. She is so close that I feel her breath on my lips and I'm left wondering how hers taste.

"You will never break me." She whispers sharply, letting the air hang between us at the revelation of her promise.

"Pity. But you know what the most satisfying part of killing you will be? When the life slowly leaves your eyes, you're gasping for breath, and choking on your own blood, Stiles will see all of it. He may not be in control, but he sees what I see... Feels what I feel. He will literally experience the life force being sucked out of you. So in a way, it'll kind of be like he killed you himself. And that's something Stiles will never recover from, murdering the girl he loves in cold blood. I'll be killing two birds with one stone. That will be your last thought before you die and Stiles' last remaining tether to this world will shatter. He'll be nothing but a phantom in his own mind, forced to watched me kill the others and many more innocents for the next thousands of years. And that, my sweet Malia, is the true meaning of immortality."

Suddenly the door burst open and in comes Scott McCall's pack ready for the fight of their lives.

"This should be fun."

 

Third Person POV: The gang arrives at an abandoned cellular underneath Beacon Hills Hospital. No one even knew that this place existed. Leave it to Peter to know all the in and outs of this town.

They find Malia and the Fox standing over her in a heated standoff. Peter breaks the barrier of the door, followed by Isaac, Scott, Lydia, Kira, and the rest of the younger group.

"This should be fun." Says Void as he grabs a hold of Malia unexpectedly and throws her into the wall, her head making impact with the cement and a sickening crack when she hits the floor.

"MALIA!" Lydia screams violently, her sounds of agony piercing the night. Her voice echos off the walls and slams into Void as he is thrown back against a window, shattering the glass.

His ears and mouth ooze blood and he grins at the group. Scott's eyes flash red as he lunges at him and swipes at him with his claws. Peter joins in on the fight and ferociously slices into Void, blood splattering everywhere.

Isaac rushes over to check on Malia. The back of her head is cracked open and blood pours out of the wound. She's losing too much too fast. He tries to take some of her pain away so hopefully her body will start to heal itself. Black veins decorate his arms, contrasting with the whiteness of his skin. Her eyelids flutter open and she croaks, "Isaac..."

On the other end of the room, Void disarms Scott and sends him sprawling across the room. Peter meets the same fate and takes a fatal blow to the back. He lands on the ground by his knees and the crunch can be heard by everyone.

Lydia stands among the bloodshed and decides that it's her turn to step up. She would do anything for her pack, her family. She lets out another scream to throw Void off balance and takes him on in a fight. She meets him blow for blow, holding her own with the skills Parrish had taught her. She locks her thighs around his head and swings her body around, flipping him over where he lands with a thud on the hard ground. Thinking she had won, she turns to check on Malia, not noticing that Void has gotten up off the ground.

Isaac sees him in the corner of his eye and observes his hand making a beeline for Lydia's chest cavity. He know that Malia wouldn't be able to live with herself if Lydia died, especially without forgiving her. His choice was made up, he knew what he was about to do. And he did it all for her. Without hesitation, Isaac launches himself in front of Lydia, knocking her out of the way just as Void's hand shoots through his body, paralyzing him as he grasps his organ.

"ISAAACCCCCCC, NO!" Malia's desperate pleas and cries rival those of a banshee.

"I love you. I'll always love you." Was all he said, still looking only at her with nothing but tenderness and... Acceptance?

Kira appears out of thin air catching everyone off guard and impales Void with her Katana, but it's too late.

Isaac's heart... It's no longer in his body.

Everything happened so fast. It's as if the world stopped spinning and every movement happened in slow motion. He hits the floor, the gold of his eyes fading back into his human blue. Malia can hear her heartbeat in her ears, counting six distinct beats until Isaac reaches the ground.

Malia lets out a gut wrenching wail, her whole body shaking and convulsing in her disbelief. She crawls over to where Isaac's body lies, grasping his cold hands and pushes the curls away from his forehead with trembling hands.

"No.. No... No this isn't.. This can't be... No please come back. Isaac, Isaac... Baby, please don't go. Don't leave me! I need you here, I love dammit! Don't do this to me, you can't leave me behind, I won't let you!" She sobs uncontrollably, her small frame leaning over his and staining his shirt with her tears.

The pack is cautious to go near her, wanting to comfort her while also being consumed by their own grief and aching sadness. Another member of their family has fallen.

Scott puts a hand on her shoulder, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut at seeing Isaac's corpse up close, knocking the wind out of him.

"He promised that I'd never be alone again" Malia continues to thrash and cry in anguish. Her despair is swallowing her whole and she can't come up for air.

She cleans off the blood from his face, it almost looks like he's simply sleeping. She brings her forehead down to his, still unable to move from her spot next to him. She lays a gentle kiss on his lips, relaying the feeling to memory that she'll carry with her for the rest of her life. She closes his eyelids with two fingers as tears continue to drip from her face.

Peter and the others took Void's body away where they would wait for Stiles to come back to them.

Scott left Malia alone with Isaac for a few moments alone while he went with the others before he would come back to collect his body.

"God dammit, Isaac. Why did you do that? That was so reckless and stupid! We... We could have been happy together. We were so close to being free of pain. You didn't deserve to die this way. You should have lived a long, full life. Why do I always get to live while others I care about die around me, huh?" Malia's questions fall on deaf ears, in some way expecting a reply but then remembering her situation.

Scott, Lydia, and Kira return a few minutes later. Scott takes great care in picking up Isaac's body while Lydia and Kira support her weight as they help her out of the cellar.

LEAVE REVIEWS PLEASE! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!


	10. Death Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Phone Kisses" By Suhmeduh

Malia POV: Death is simple, easy. But being alive when the ones you love are dead takes on the most infinite meaning of suffering.

It's been a little over a week since his funeral.

I can't- I can't

I still remember the shallow breathing that could be heard on either side of me. Scott sat to my left and Kira to my right. Out of nowhere, Scott had grasped my small hand in his, holding on for dear life. I turned to my Alpha and saw the magnitude of his sadness shining in his eyes as a lone tear dripped onto his lap. The complete devastation on his face gave me pause. I knew that him and Isaac had been close, it was just so bizarre seeing Scott needing me to be there for him too. I had become so used to him being there for everyone else that the onslaught of emotions he sent my way with a single touch made me determined to stay strong for him. And for myself.

You'll never be alone again, I promise

The pack has came by to visit me like clockwork. Scott in the mornings, Liam and Mason in the afternoons, and Lydia and Kira come by every night. Peter even stopped by in an attempt to offer his condolences.

Each attempt at small talk or comfort was met with an easy reassurance that I was fine, sounding almost robotic at this point from the many times that I have repeated myself.

I stare out the window at the sun that has just began to set. Soft pinks and deep blues swim together in the sky, instantly painting a picture in my head of familiar raspberry lips pulled back in a lazy grin and sparkling lapis lazuli eyes staring at me. In that moment, I'm taken back to that day at the beach. What I wouldn't give to live in that memory one more time.

Hey there, Wildflower

There's a soft rasping of knuckles at the door. I can smell the anxiety and fear seeping into the hard wood of the door.

"I'm really not in the mood for company..." I slur, already making my way to the door in order to pacify which ever friend it is that they don't need to keep checking in on me.

"Even me?"

I open the door and come face to face with the one person I've been avoiding the past week.

"Stiles, hey." I whisper lowly, keeping my eyes on my shoes.

"Can I come in, please?" He begs, motioning towards the door.

"Now's not really a good time for me..." I say weakly, trying to deflect the situation. I just don't think I can have this conversation with him just yet.

"'Lia, please... I just, I just need to see you. I need to know that you are okay, like really okay. And honestly, I want to talk to you. And if you'll just give me a few minutes of your time and sit through my nervous rambling and explanations, I may just believe that everything will be okay between us again someday."

Those puppy dog eyes still have that annoying effect on me, unfortunately. With a deep sigh, I open the door a little wider and gesture for him to come in.

 

Stiles POV: She's heartbreakingly beautiful. Irrevocably devastating. Her hair has grown a little bit since the last time I saw her, at least with my own eyes. Crescent-shaped bruises lay beneath her eyes and a her face seems thinner than before.

She takes a seat on her bed and pats the spot next to her in invitation.

I slowly make my way over and take in the sight of Malia's room. It is exactly as I remember. Books are threwn around the place, Polaroid pictures scattered on her desk, her mixtapes in a neat stack on her bedside table, and the golden lights trickling from the ceiling, casting the room in a warm glow. I had always loved those rare occasions when we would spend the night at Malia's house instead of my own. I always felt closer to her here, surrounded by her things. In the corner of my eye, I catch the sight of her green, red, and yellow highlighters from the last time I had helped her with her math homework.

Gosh, that feels like a lifetime ago.

Malia is quiet. She's always been a deep thinker and what made it even more endearing was the cute little confused look she would have on her face. Her nose would scrunch up and her eyebrows would knit together. My favorite part would be to rub the crease from in between them and kiss her forehead to bring her back to reality. Every time I would ask her where she had gone, she'd just smile and say that it wasn't important.

We stay silent for what seems like hours, but has probably only been five minutes. However, the silence is suffocating me and a cold sweat breaks out. There's so many things that I want to say to her, that I need to say to her, but have no idea how to say them.

"You kind of stink." She says suddenly with a faint smile.

"Yeah, it's anxiety. You should be used to scent by now." I chuckle, looking up at her finally.

The conversation dies out again and I twiddle my thumbs, trying to build up the courage to speak the next few words.

"God, Mal. I miss you so much."

I lay it all out in the open and wait with bated breath for her to say something... Anything.

I hear her breathing beside me, but she doesn't say anything.

Embarrassed, I get up to leave.

"Stiles, wait."

She grabs my hand in her small one, keeping me in place.

Slick tears slide down her face and I just want to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless, but I know that I cannot do that. That's not what she needs right now.

"I just, I can't. I don't know how to... Feel again. I don't know how to let those feelings in. After everything that's happened with you and the Nogitsune and... Isaac." Her voice breaks at his name and her small body shakes violently as she erupts in sobs.

I catch her before she sinks to the ground and keep her head against my heart in an effort to keep her broken pieces from falling apart around us.

"Shhh... Baby, it's okay. It's going to be fine, I promise. It's okay if you need to talk about it... About him. He was there for you when I wasn't and he loved you in a way that I should have and he made you happy. You don't have to be strong around me... Never around me. You can cry and scream and throw things if that will help. Or I can hold you for as long as you need. I would do anything- be anything for you. And I get it if you blame me for what happened to him. I do, and I know nothing I say will ever make it better or bring him back, but god, I have to try, don't I?" I whisper into her hair as I brush a few stray pieces from her face.

I taste the saltiness in my mouth and realize that I've started crying as well.

"Stiles, I could never blame you for him dying. He died because of me. Everyone I care about ends up dying because of me. I'm a catalyst for despair and destruction. I killed my family, bringing pain to my father. And now I'm the reason Isaac is dead. And you know what the most selfish part of it is? I loved him. I loved him hard and fast and without thought. He made it so easy to fall deeper and farther without even realizing it until I was in over my head. But as much as I cared about him, I never unfell for you." She confesses with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Mal..."

"Wait, let me finish, Stiles. I love you so much, I always have. But I'm not that girl anymore. I don't know how to be that girl anymore. And I can't forget the way you treated me after the whole Donovan thing. Like I get that you were going through stuff, really I do. But you just shut me out and left me wondering what I did wrong. And then I was so insecure about Lydia and I saw the way you would look at her. It was so different from the way you would look at me. I think you owe it to yourself to see if there's something more there. And you and I- we can try to work up to being friends again."

"But Malia, I just got you back. I- I don't need to explore other people, its you, dammit. It's always been you. I was just too stupid to see that."

She cradles my face between her soft hands and looks at me with those sunshine eyes and I'm paralyzed once again. I'm completely lost in her. Because while Malia is all brute strength and shameless in her radiance, she's also a girl who is so frustratingly alluring. She reels you in with her secret smiles and olive skin like a gravitational pull. And before you know it, you're caught in her self-embodied hurricane.

And what a beautiful way to die.

"I need time to heal and grieve. And you have shit you need to work out. I think you should talk to someone, whether it's Scott or your dad. Or even me. But I think you owe it to both of us to see what is still between you and Lydia. She loves you, Stiles. As much as it makes me want to rip something apart, it doesn't change the truth. And just maybe, in time, we will fit together again."

I hug her close and lay my cheek on top of her head.

"Can I just hold you for a little longer?" I ask gently, clinging to any part of her I can get my hands on. Her familiar vanilla scent fills my nose and every bad thing that has happened is put on the back burner. It's just me and her right now.

"Where else would I want to be?" She says back, fingers tangled in the hair on the back of my neck.

About ten minutes later, I reluctantly let go of her and head for the door.

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you, Malia."

"Then don't. I'll see you soon, Stiles."

With a watery smile and a new found hope for the future, I walk out the door and don't look back.


	11. Addicted to My Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Where Is My Mind?" By The Pixies

Malia shivers as the cold rain melts to her clothes and coats her lashes. Her car windows appear opaque from the the frigid layer of ice that covers them in fog and unhappy thoughts.

Lying motionless on the hood of her truck, she pulls out an old pack of Marlboros and reaches for the rickety lighter she had picked up on the way to her favorite spot. Malia isn't usually one to indulge in smoking to mask her ever-growing self-loathing, but today was special. This very spot was sacred... It was the place that marked the beginning of unraveling the knot of confusion that was Isaac and the now embodies his very essence.

The pack had decided to bury his body here. Malia hadn't visited since the funeral and decided when she had woken up that morning that today was the day. She lit her cigarette between her fingers, creating a cloud of smoke that danced above her head.

With a long sigh, she jumps off the hood and stares at the make-shift grave everyone had put together. The grass brushes her bare feet as she leans down to finger the petals of the wild flowers that blanket the ground. With a dainty hand, Malia picks the prettiest ones she can find until she has a bouquet that are worthy of the man who named her after them. In a nicotine haze, Malia sits Indian style next to the grave site and traces patterns in the earth as if she was getting her feel of him one final time.

The sun sets gorgeously across the horizon and warms the dead feeling in Malia's heart. It's as if Isaac is was there with her, letting her know that he loves her and that he is okay.

"I know I haven't came to see you recently. You know I've never been that great at saying goodbye." Malia whispers brokenly as her eyes begin to mist over with tears. "I just needed a little sunshine and I just wanted to hold your hand, so here I am. The closest I could get to you, I suppose."

"God, I miss you. So much... It's like, I don't know how to sleep anymore because I'm so used to you breathing loudly and snoring next to me." She chuckles, furiously wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

"And man, that used to annoy me so much. You- you would shush me with a kiss to my nose and tell me to stop being such a sour coyote. I wish I had appreciated those moments then."

Malia breathes deeply to control the shaking of her voice. She can feel the sobs in her throat threatening to choke her and come spilling out any minute now.

"I talked to Stiles yesterday. It felt nice to be able to talk to him again without feeling weird and claustrophobic, as if the silence would swallow me whole and I'd just continue existing in an endless abyss. It's funny, with him I feel like I am swimming and with you I felt like I was drowning. And I mean that in a good way, for both of you. Isaac, I don't know how I'll ever thank you for walking into my life. When I say that I was drowning in you, I mean that quite literally. I fell into your blue eyes and I never wanted to come up again. Being with you was infinite and consuming and fast and exhilarating. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath which both excited and scared me. And Stiles, he really did keep me swimming. He's this lull inside my head that constantly let me know that I could get through anything whether it be problems with my parents, what college I wanted to attend, or what the hell I was going to do with the rest of my life. He was that lifeline that would make me feel safe and mystified and just terrifyingly loved. A single touch would put me at ease, like an anchor. I guess when I was with him I felt like I could breathe again."

"I know I am so selfish because I wish you were here and I still love you. Like as much as I love deer and pizza, and that's saying something. But I love him too and I can't ignore that fact anymore. What if wherever you are, you're looking down at me and hating me for it? That's my biggest fear. I can't stand the thought of you existing elsewhere, whether it be in the air that I breathe or the flowers around me, and every atom that is distinctly you resents ever loving me. I hope you don't, because I could never regret you."

The sun crystallizes on her face and warmth spreads across her skin, like a hand caressing her cheek. The sky resembles Isaac's ocean eyes and Malia breaks into a smile. Because as bittersweet as this moment is, she knows that Isaac will always live on here and in her memories. In a way, it's like he is telling her that he understands and loves her. He had just wanted her to be happy and she got a little bit of the closure she needed.

With a sense of relief, she places a lingering kiss on his grave and hikes back to her car. She feels lighter than she has in a long time.

 

Later that day, the pack meet up at Scott's house. He had suggested a movie night to clear the air and alleviate any awkward tension that still circled around the group.

Kira had spent the night with Scott the previous day, so she was already there setting up blankets and pillows for everyone and putting popcorn in the microwave.

Liam and Hayden looked adorable and sappy sitting on the love seat together and Corey and Mason sat at their feet with a quilt sandwiched between the two of them.

Lydia showed up next looking out of place when she spots all the happy couples in the room. Kira throws her arm around her in a comforting gesture, and invites her to help her in the kitchen.

The door bell rings and Scott goes to answer the door. He is met with Stiles in his laid-back glory, sporting a plaid flannel and comfy looking sweats. He immediately pulls his best friend in for a hug.

"Hey man, glad you could make it. How are you feeling?" Scott inquires curiously.

"Fine, I suppose. Is Malia here yet?"

Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.

Not a second later, Malia pulls up in her Chevy and cuts the engine. She's dressed in her usual cut off shorts and a tshirt, looking like she had just gotten out of bed, but in the most delicious way. Her hair is an unruly mess of curls and her eyes seem darker than usual, but those brown eyes and thick thighs are making Stiles feel some type of way.

He can't keep the look of pure adoration off his face.

"Hey guys" She smiles brightly, looking them both over expectantly.

"Hey Mal, it's so good to see you." Scott smiles back and brings her into his arms.

If he was being honest, Stiles may be his guy best friend, but Malia definitely took the title as his girl best friend, aside from Kira, of course. They had gotten closer during the time that Stiles and her had begun having problems. She would come over and they would do homework together or go for a run, but she would never open up about the breakup. She had way too much pride for that. Malia also had too much wildness inside her to let her emotions become a weakness. But they did talk about other things to get their mind off of their lives, such as books they were interested in reading, movies that actually looked funny enough to waste money on seeing, or the reasons math was the center of all evil. However, through the laughs and good times, the shadow that would cross her face when she thought he wasn't looking didn't go unnoticed.

"Malia, hi..."Stiles murmurs shyly, giving her a once over. He starts at her heart shaped face and then moves past her taut torso down to her toned, shapely legs... Fuck, those legs... And then back up to her face.

His imploring gaze meets hers after his appraisal, and she shoots him an amused smirk, totally catching him ogling her. His soft eyes make her mood lighten a bit and her toes to tingle in excitement. She loved the way he would look at her.

She walks past the two of them and catches eyes with Lydia across the kitchen. Looking down at her combat boots, she breaks eye contact and makes a beeline for the living room to avoid the elephant in the room. Determined to have a good time, she mingles halfheartedly with Hayden and talks about girl stuff.

"So what movie are we watching, guys?" A deep voices interrupts the group.

"Derek!" Malia yells and catapults into her cousin's arms. He squeezes her back with equal vigor and lifts her up in the air.

"Hello, everyone." A second person speaks, a familiarly condescending voice making every person in the room cringe.

"And you brought... Peter." Malia tries to appear unbothered with a flippant eye roll, but the slight clenching of her fists gives her away.

"He insisted on coming." Derek states with a reluctant tone, motioning to Peter.

"Oh please, I know everyone was just dying to see me." Peter goads, mischief crossing his crafty blue eyes.

"Well, that is what people usually do in your presence... Die." Stiles comments wittily, entering the room and standing by Malia's side as a sign of protection. He knew Peter was unpredictable and he didn't like him sniffing around Malia. Just because he had done one decent thing in his life and helped the others rescue her, doesn't mean that there isn't any bad blood still between all of them.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Peter turns his poignant gaze on Malia, a look she's never seen on him before. His eyes don't appear as cold as before and an inkling of remorse is there and gone before she can blink.

"I was just hoping I'd see you here and we'd get a chance to talk... Alone." He emphasizes, casting an annoyed look at Stiles standing so close to his daughter and hoping that he'd catch the hint.

"Like hell you will." Stiles steps dangerously close to Peter, not caring if he is outmatched. Even with the Nogitsune gone, his blood still bleeds the same and the all too familiar taste of sin and strife coats his tongue. Some parts of his demons will never truly go away.

Malia grabs his wrist and pulls him back, rubbing small circles on the sensitive skin there.

"Stiles, it's fine. Besides, I could kick his ass seven ways to Sunday if he tries anything." She assures him and looks back at Peter.

"Lead the way."

 

Malia follows Peter to one of the spare rooms in the house and waits for him to speak.

"Would you like to sit?"

"I'd rather stand, thanks."

"Look Malia, I know that stuff has happened and I've done bad things and caused your friends pain. I get that and I know you despise me for it. While I may not be sorry for many things, I am sorry that I've been selfish with you. And I also regret that I never got to know you and raise you the way I wish I could have... Maybe it was for the best. Talia didn't want you to turn out like me. I understand that you're a Tate now, but to me you'll always be a Hale. My little Wolf."

"Isn't it a little early for terms of endearment?" She scoffs and fixes him with a steel glare, hoping it will help her measure his sincerity.

Don't get her wrong, Malia loved her parents. They had given her the best life they could and loved her unconditionally. They were enough and all she could have ever wanted in parents. However, there were times when she felt like a stranger in her own home and questioned where she came from and why her biological parents didn't want her.

Peter chuckles. "Always the little spitfire... You definitely get that from your mother, the eyes too. She used to look at me like that, fire and ice all in one heated glance. They shined like whiskey too, her spirit and vivaciousness could cut a man down. Beautiful to look at, but definitely burned hot on the way down. But she was cold and hard, manipulative and unfeeling, all wrapped up in a pretty package. And that is where you too differ. I may not know you on a personal level like your friends, but I know a good soul when I see one. Those are usually the ones I would try to corrupt first."

"What are you getting at, Peter? What are you trying to accomplish by telling me this?"

"I don't know... I guess I just want you to give me a chance. I've already missed out on seventeen years of your life and I don't want to waste anymore. We can start small, but I'd like to spend some time together. I want to build a healthy relationship with you. You're my only daughter and I don't have much family left that I haven't already burned bridges with. You may not believe me, but I would have torn this town apart if something had happened to you that night."

Malia can sense his vulnerability leaking though the cracks in his usual unscathed appearance.

"I understand if you don't want to-"

"No- it's uh- I think this could be a good thing. But don't think I'm letting my guard down that easily." She narrows her eyes and points a finger at him.

He laughs loudly. "You wouldn't be my daughter if you did, little Wolf."

 

The gang filed into the living room and took their respective spots. Scott and Kira took the chair, Peter and Derek loomed in the corners, the younger group laid sprawled on the floor, Lydia and Stiles occupied the couch, and Malia sat at Stiles' feet using his knees as a pillow.

They were watching an independent film called 'Comet' starring Emmy Rossum and Justin Long. Malia had seen the movie once during a long night with tired eyes, but hadn't really paid much attention to it. She had been much more interested in the colorful aesthetic of the film and gorgeous cinematography that cast every scene in an ethereal lighting.

But as she watched it now, she couldn't help but think of her and Stiles. She pictured their lives intertwined in a time line that spanned across the universe: terrible love, broken hearts, make up sex, witty banter, sincere promises, longing stares, and skin on skin in the expanse of years and parallel universes.

Words and phrases of the two lovers run through her head on an endless loop.

"Why does it feel so impossible to let you go?"

"Something about you has given me a heightened curiosity to know you better."

"I feel like I'm in the wrong world. 'Cause I don't belong in a world where we don't end up together. I don't."

"You know, I never thought love was real. I didn't. And now I don't think life is real without it."

"I think I'm going to fall in love with you too."

"So... Have you ever dreamt about me?"

"You're my love. You're my love."

Every line echos through her mind and she raises her head and is hit with caramel eyes burning holes into her skull. Suddenly, every atom in her body is hot and scorching because every minuscule tear in her heart tells her that loving Stiles was not an accident.

But then she looks closer and she sees the way Lydia fits comfortably into his side and wonders if maybe parallel universes are real and maybe they just found each other in the wrong one.

Because what if there is a place millions of light years away, through portals and time loops and black holes and supernovas, that their love is alive and bold in it's realness. And possibly, she's a wanderess, and he is the pouring rain and there is a place where they are right for each other.

With a sinking feeling she turns back to screen and basks in the harsh reality that while you may be lucky enough to meet your soul mate, you might not spend the rest of your life with them.

And with that thought in mind, her thoughts switch back and forth between Stiles and Isaac, contemplating if in other lives, she ends up with both of them, just not within the same infinity.

With a heavy heart and troubled mind, Malia excuses herself to get some hot chocolate from the kitchen. She looks through the cabinet and spies a Star Wars mug in the back corner. Of course Stiles would have his own cup in the McCall household. She chuckles and pulls it out. She lathers on the whipped cream and smothers the top with marshmallows and fudge sauce. When she's satisfied, she takes a seat at the table.

She hears the creaking of the floorboards and looks up just as Lydia's strawberry blonde hair peeks threw the door.

"Malia, hi-"

"Hey, Lydia..."

The silence stretches for a moment too long and the red head makes her way over and takes a seat beside her friend.

"Mal, I-"

"Lydia, just don't please. I really don't want to know how you came to the realization that you love Stiles, okay? If that is what y'all want, I'm not going to stand in your way. Just leave me out of it and don't pretend that you care about me or my feelings. You had so many chances to tell me, but no, you encouraged me to move on with Isaac. I basically spoon-fed you the opportunity to get with Stiles without even realizing it and you know what? I actually believed that you wanted to be my friend. What were all those sleepovers and shopping trips? Were you just buttering me up so that you could let me down easy when you finally decided to tell me that you caught feelings for my ex-boyfriend? But don't worry, I already told Stiles that I don't care, so have at it."

"Malia, it wasn't like that! I am your friend and yes I genuinely wanted to help you move on, but not because of an ulterior motive. You just looked so sad. When I looked at you, it's like I was seeing the ghost of Allison all over again after her and Scott broke up. Isaac had made her happy and I just thought- maybe he could be that for you too. I swear, I didn't even realize my feelings for Stiles until the Sadie Hawkins dance. He looked at you the way he used to look at me and I finally realized what I had lost. Except with you it was different. I feel like he used to see me and just view me as a concept or something to be put on a pedestal. But you- It's like you weren't just one thing, you were just so much more than that to him... Bigger-larger than life. I swear it was like you had flowers in your hair and stars coming out of your fingertips. They both saw it in you, Stiles and Isaac. You're a lucky girl, Malia Tate.

Malia took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked back up at Lydia.

"I'm not special, Lydia. I never was."

"You're a fool if you really believe that."

"Look Lydia, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. It was a bitch move, I know that. I was just so hurt and every time I saw you I couldn't help but feel every insecurity I've ever had hit me all at once. You may think that Stiles doesn't love you, but he does. In his own way. And like I told him, I think you two owe it to yourselves to figure out what that something between y'all is. You guys have a connection that I'll never understand and I think ya'll should explore it. You don't want to live your life wondering 'what if' and neither do I."

"But what about you? Are you sure you're okay with this? I don't want to lose you, Malia."

"You won't, I promise. Talk to Stiles, ya'll have needed to have this conversation for a while now."

Lydia grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers.

"No matter what happens, just know that I love you, Mal."

"I love you too, Lyds."

They walk back into the room hand-in-hand, catching everyone's attention, and lay cuddled together on the floor.

"What?" Malia asks boldly, noticing that everyone is still looking at them.

Everyone turns back to the movie not wanting to face Malia's wrath.

At the end of the night, everyone ends up sleeping over and Malia is still curled into Lydia's side.

Yep, she could get used to this. However, she can't ignore the warmth that crawls up her arm when Stiles innocently grabs her hand in his sleep.


	12. Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost."
> 
> Song Inspiration: "Let It All Go" By Rhodes + Birdy

The dull hum of excitement sent shivers down Malia's spine as she got ready for the night to come. The local carnival is about an hour out of town on the beach. Scott suggested the idea that they all go as a group before everyone left his house that morning. The pack was finally beginning to fall back into place and he didn't want those moments to end.

Malia gazed in the mirror. She wore a midnight blue skater dress and beige high-top converse. She smiles fondly at the loose cursive scrawl of M + S on the toe that's begun to fade to a pale grey from dirt and withered scuff marks. She pulls her loose waves up into a half up half down style with a messy bun that sits artistically at the top of her head. With a swipe of her strawberry chapstick and a coat of mascara, she's ready to go.

She pulls up to the beach and cuts the engine, looking through the rear view mirror to capture the faint view of Stiles pulling up behind her in his jeep. Their eyes meet in a fleeting glance and Malia swears brown is the warmest color she's ever known. Their souls are saying hello.

The rest of the gang piles into the parking lot. Malia marvels at the amber lights that illuminate the sky like a million fireflies. Music, laughter, and rambunctiousness echo through the park as the group makes their way to the front entrance to purchase their tickets.

"Ten tickets, please." Scott says to the young man behind the booth.

"But Scott, there's only nine of us." Malia says, going from face to face as she takes roll of all her friends in attendance: Lydia, Stiles, Kira, Scott, Hayden, Liam, Corey, Mason, and herself.

"One for Isaac." He says simply, staring back at her with a mixture of compassion and timid softness that only Scott McCall was capable of.

Everyone looked around at each other and exchanged hopeful smiles and long stares.

"For Isaac." Stiles nods with a sad smile, sending a subtle look Malia's way with an emotion that she couldn't quite place.

"Alright, lets go have some fun, shall we." Lydia proclaims as she takes the lead with everyone following behind her into the park.

 

They began the night with bumper cars. Malia and Kira against Lydia and Hayden and Scott and Mason against Liam and Corey. Stiles went over to the food trucks to get a coke and some cotton candy. He stumbles back over, walking in on the moment and caught in the chaos that is Malia Tate.

She'sunraveled in the way she unfolds beneath the glittering lights, unkempt in her manners and lack of care for normalcy, and unforgiving in the way her wild eyes sparkle underneath the stars. Seeing her look so happy with her hair undone and her infectious smile on display felt surreal in the way time seemed to slow down with her, as if it wanted to appreciate the sight of her, too.

Malia made every blur and ripple in his life make sense. He loved looking at her. It felt right, as if he should be looking at her for the rest of his life. Because when he sees her untamed and unfiltered with happiness bleeding through her veins, the black and white he's been living in is gone and suddenly the world is in blinding, iridescent color. Every other person is just a nameless face and every beat of his heart feels like a hit from a kind of high he never wants to come down from. And in that moment when Stiles stopped time with his mind, he felt alive.

She's the girl. And he let her get away.

It feels like a punch in the gut when she turns her head. Those sienna eyes burn for him and she smiles, beckoning him over with the crook of her finger. A waterfall of emotion envelopes Stiles and he just smiles back, loving her from a far and knowing there was nothing he could do about it but wait. And not wait in the creepy '10 year plan' sort of way he had with Lydia, but in a way that is selfless and puts her needs before his own. She needed time and he was willing to give that to her, however long it takes.

"Hey Stiles, can we talk for a minute?"

Stiles hadn't even realized Lydia had come to stand next to him. He had been too caught up in thoughts of brown eyes and dark hair. Lydia's long, red mane smells of strawberries and creme. He takes in her porcelain skin and leaf green eyes, remembering the feeling they used to evoke inside of him. He feels it come bubbling back to the surface like a familiar pair of warm arms wrapping around him.

"Yeah, sure Lydia, what's up?"

"Can we go somewhere more private?"

Stiles scrunches his brow in confusion, wondering what Lydia would need to talk to him about that she couldn't say right here.

"Uh, sure... Lead the way."

Lydia grabs his hand and begins walking in the other direction towards the Ferris Wheel.

Little do they know that Malia witnessed the whole exchange.


	13. Love Songs Drug Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: 'Ghosts' By Banners
> 
> "Two years later a girl sits in front of her ex lover. He doesn't say a word and her heart doesn't ache for him anymore. Her hair is longer than it's ever been. She's even more beautiful than the day he left her. And at that moment, he panics. He lost her. And he can never have her back. He can just watch her be beautiful and in love with someone else." - Zienab Hamdan

Stiles POV: I can feel it creeping up on me, the sense of dread moving sluggishly slow down my spine and a chilling ghost of fingerprints searing my bones through my flesh. Goosebumps cover my fragile skin: pale, thin and vulnerable to the switch inside of my head that won't shut out the thoughts and impulses that relish in the idea of doing terrible things. The Nogitsune may be gone, but the burnt edges of my mind will always hold their own darkness.

I still remember it inside me. I still feel it's hand prints bruised into my wrists, mirroring my own loss of control like a double edged sword. I remember the chains that held me captive in my own mind as I laid in filth and grim, screaming for anyone to hear me. I begged them all: Scott, Malia, Lydia... Anyone who would listen to please not leave me behind. I still cry myself to sleep at night from the memory of it's voice taunting me, echoing through my skull endlessly and passionately as it terrorized my friends. My muscles memorized the way my body would rock back in forth in a fetal position as I whispered to myself to turn it off. I am a self-embodied record player that can never fully be fixed. I'll always be broken and bent.

Every thing that happened the night the pack rescued Malia played gain and again every night until my eyes couldn't hold themselves open anymore. And even then, I wasn't set completely free. I'd gotten pretty good at covering the blue-black bruises that made a home underneath my eyes and the angry red marks of blood beneath my fingernails from them digging into my palms. As I lay sweaty and unhinged in my bed, I wonder how much longer I can keep this up.

I have good days and I have bad days. One day I'm high and flying. The world moves slow and fast all at once. Everything is exciting and exhilarating and every tree, cloud, and person seems to be doing exactly what they we're always suppose to be doing. The next day will be the lowest of lows where I can't find it in me to wake up that morning and the tiny flame inside me dims little by little. I think of chaos and death and I remember that it's all my fault. Today was a good day. My mind wanders to Malia and the numbness I feel begins to subside a little. She is my sunshine, after all. But what if one day she gets tired of lighting herself on fire just to keep me warm?

 

Malia's POV: A tugging feeling lurks in the corner of my mind. For some reason, I'm I'm more restless than usual and I just know that something is wrong. It's like an itch underneath my skin that I can't scratch.

It has to be Stiles.

He had called out to me before when he had been taken by Theo and I can sense him now unintentionally reeling me into his orbit. And when I let it in, I feel cold. I jump out of bed and pull on a beanie, one of Stiles' old Beacon Hills tshirts, and my converse. Opening up the window, I move through it with ease and set out into the night.

 

Third Person POV: Just as he's about to succumb to sleep, Stiles hears a soft rasping at his window. In a panic, he sits upright and wipes the excess sweat from between his brows. He turns and sees a head of brown hair peeking through the open window and realizes that it's Malia. He breathes a long sigh of relief when she makes it into his room and is still trying to get over the shock that she's actually here.

"Stiles"

"Malia, hey, what are you doing here?"

She licks her lips and starts walking towards him.

"I don't know I- I just had this feeling that I needed to be here. Something was telling me that you weren't okay and I had to come check on you to be sure."

"Oh" Stiles says, scratching the back of his head nervously, looking anywhere but her.

"So... You okay?"

"Uh, yeah.. Yeah I'm okay."

It doesn't take Malia listening to his heartbeat or the smell of his chemo signals to know that he is lying.

"You're not even trying to be convincing, Stiles."

Stiles has to smile at her casual response because she's blunt with this 'no nonsense' look on her face where her nose crunches up and she waits for him to confess. He doesn't even know why he bothered lying, she simply knows him too well at his point. He's missed this, not being able to hide from her questions. And he misses her, including everything that came with her curiosity and yearn to understand.

"I know. The truth is I'm not okay and I don't know what that means. My own reflection makes my skin crawl and I look at my body and I don't recognize myself anymore. I feel absent and reclusive but also hyper-aware and terrifyingly present at times."

Malia sits down beside him on the bed and lays on her side with her arm perched behind her head.

"It means that you are human, I think. You're dealing with things that most people couldn't even dream of and it makes sense that you don't feel normal, like a puzzle piece out of place. But you want to know what I see when I look at you?"

"What?" He asks, leaning closer to her as he lays on his side as well, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and staring at her lips in the darkness.

Malia grabs his hands between her cold ones and begins playing with his fingers. His hands had always been her weakness.

"I see a guy who is more than pale skin and fragile bones. You are capable of doing bad things, just like the rest of us. The difference is, you are more honest about it. No one will ever openly say that they like the bloodshed, because then people will look at them like they're a monster. But I can promise you that every single one of us is guilty of enjoying the surge of power that comes with the gifts we we're either given or born with. Even Scott. And even me."

"But what if I hurt someone again?"

"You won't, because I'll be there to bring you back every single time."

"I don't want you to feel obligated to me forever. I hate relying on people and being a burden."

"Stiles shut up. You know I don't think of you that way. I always come back."

"I don't deserve you, but I'm glad I have you."

"You had me at hello."

"Thanks, Mal, I can't talk to anyone else about this."

"I know you would do it for me."

Malia lays her head on his shoulder and snuggles into his body, loving the heat that comes off of him and transfers to her.

"Will you stay here tonight?" Stiles asks with a hopeful expression.

"Just come here." She says, bringing him into her arms.

"Can I be the big spoon this time?" Stiles pouts, rolling on top of her in a playful position as he stares down at her with a twinkle in his eyes. Malia will never admit to kind of liking the idea of Stiles on top, but her tiny smile gives her away.

"Okay" She breathes out, lost in brown. She can feel herself falling to pieces over him all over again. Did she really fool herself into believing she could ever get over him?

"Okay" He grins, loving the sight of her hair laid haphazardly spread across his pillows and how his shirt falls loosely past her collarbones. She looks like she belongs here.

She turns over and Stiles puts his arms around her small waist, not caring if his arm gets numb after a few minutes. He needed to feel her heart beating against his hand so he knows that she's real and that this isn't a dream.

"Yeah, this-this is good." He smiles, hearing Malia's soft snores as she dozes off to sleep.

"I love you, Malia, so much." He whispers, thinking she doesn't hear him. He closes his eyes surrounded by the covers and falls asleep to the sound of her breathing.

Little does he know she isn't fully asleep yet.

"I love you, too." She whispers back sleepily, running her finger lazily over the back of his hand in a comforting motion.

 

The morning said hello and the sky was still dark.

"Stiles wake up!"

"Huh.. What?" Stiles groans, mouth wide open with drool leaking from the corner onto his pillow.

"Stiles!"

He springs awake and looks around, seeing that it's still dark outside.

"Malia, what are you doing? It's not time for school yet, it's 5 am." He yawn out, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Let's go get tattoos!" Malia half yells, half whispers, jumping around on the bed.

"Tattoos? Are you crazy?" He laughs, smiling affectionately as he watches her already pulling on her socks and shoes.

"Yeah come on, I started thinking about it last night and I think we need to celebrate all that we've survived and live our lives while we can. And I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. Come on, Stiles, take me on an adventure?" She finishes and pouts adorably. Her big brown eyes inevitably win him over.

"My dad is going to kill me if he finds out. You're a bad influence on me." He chuckles, pulling on a fresh shirt.

"No he won't. Besides, your dad loves me." She smirks, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she makes her way to the window.

"You coming?" She asks, waiting for him.

"Uh, I think I'll take the stairs."

Stiles hears her laugh following after him as he walks out of his room.

 

Malia is already leaning against the hood of his jeep, gorgeous as ever in her jeans shorts and his lacrosse jersey. The sun is beginning to come out and Stiles can't help but wonder how he got so lucky to be loved by a girl like Malia. Her hair is pulled back in a mini ponytail and there's not a stitch of makeup on her face. Stiles remembers thinking that she'd never looked more beautiful. With a wide smile on her face, she races over and grabs his hand and pulls him towards the jeep to move him along. Her excitement is contagious and Stiles can't help but think that today is going to be a good day.

Malia can't sit still as he starts the engine and they take off. She leans back with her head resting against the seat and her white converse sitting up on the dash. She looks so serene with her eyes closed and her hand in his. Stiles cherishes these moments because he gets to steal little looks at her and he's just so overcome with how much he loves this woman sitting in the seat next to him. She pops open one of her eyes unexpectedly, catching him watching her and she shakes her head and grins a toothy smile that lights up her whole face.

Malia connects her phone to the auxiliary and turns on "I Want to Feel Alive" By the Lighthouse and the Whaler. The mood is set and the sun is mesmerizing as it rises over the grassy hills.

The bass from the song hits at all the right moments and there's this building feeling that manifests inside Stiles' chest. He feels like he's about to explode, but in a good way. His heart is beating so fast and he hears Malia singing along beside him as the wind zips through her hair. The trees fly by and the road moves on an endless stretch. The florescent lights on the street make them feel so small and it occurs to Stiles that they're probably on the highway to hell. But that doesn't matter to him, because nothing matters if he has her. And suddenly, anything seems possible.

Because being with Malia was like a walking contradiction. She could be hard and ruthless and hellbent and determined. But underneath it all, she can be soft and loose and chaotic and free. Every little piece of her spells out danger and Stiles has become a little intoxicated from the rush he gets from being around her. She's a shot of heroin: a requiem of a dream and highly addictive.

"So are we getting matching tattoos?" Stiles asks, pulling Malia's gaze from the scenery outside the window.

"Hmmm, I didn't really think about it. Do you want to?"

"I'm definitely warming up to the idea." He says matter-of-fact, looking over at her.

Suddenly Malia gets an thought.

"Do you trust me?" She asks pointedly, her whole body shaking with excitement.

"You know I do." He muses, intertwining their fingers once again.

"I have the perfect design for us."

 

They arrive at the shop, and park in the first spot they see.

Beacon Hill's Tattoos is lit up in bold letters on the front of the store and Stiles is starting to get a little nervous.

"You sure you want to do this? You know, with all the needles and blood involved? And you know I faint at the sight of blood. Yeah we should probably just go home." Stiles rambles, inching back to the car.

Malia grabs a hold of the collar of his shirt and pulls him towards her.

"You can't back out now, Stilinski! Let's go." She huffs, turning on her heel and entering the shop.

"Ugh, this is going to be bad." Stiles mumbles to himself as he follows after her.

He walks in and Malia is already chatting with the man at the front desk, discussing prices and designs.

"Stiles, come here." Malia waves him over.

"This is Zack. He's going to be doing our tattoos." She says as she motions to the dude behind the desk.

He stands to shake his hand and Stiles swears he's never seen a more intimidating person in his life. Zack is about 6'6" in height with bulking shoulders and muscles covered in different tattoos. This right arm consists of a full sleeve tattoo with an intermingling of a serpent, variations of line work, an anchor, and other random designs. His left arm is blacked out with ink and his legs are covered as well. Piercings litter his face and what makes him even scarier is the long scar that trails from his temple down to his cheekbone on the right side of his face.

"Hi" Stiles squeaks out, already feeling light headed.

Malia grabs a hold of him to keep him upright.

"We're ready!" She says with a mischievous look as they are shuffled to the back.

"Okay so who's going first? " Zack asks as he sanitizes his surroundings and gets out a sterile needle.

"Wait, wait, wait, what are we getting Malia?"

Malia gets quiet all of sudden which Stiles knows is completely unlike her.

"Mal?" He questions, moving towards her and taking her face in his hands.

"So I thinking we could get puzzle pieces on our wrists. Like both pieces fitting together to complete the other. You could get red and I could get blue. But I totally understand if you don't like the idea."

Malia is not one to get nervous or stutter through her words in any shape or form. She's always strong and confident in everything she does and never bits her tongue. So it was absolutely adorable seeing her all flustered and bashful when it's usually him.

"I can work with that." He smirks, kissing her forehead and turning back towards Zack.

"I'll go first."

"Stiles, are you sure? I can go first if you're scared."

"Babe, I got this!" He says with a crooked smile, giving her a thumbs up.

Stiles steps up and lays flat on his back on the cushioned fold out chair. With his confidence at an all time high, he tells Zack to lay it on him before he chickens out.

The next thing he hears is the buzz of the needle.

"Ouch!" He yelps, immediately closing his mouth when he sees Malia chuckling in the corner as she watches him squirm.

"You got this, right babe?" She giggles, trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.

"Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. I'm basically marking myself as yours, so you better be happy." He sasses back, loving their easy banter.

He's done in no time and Malia steps up next.

Zack finished Malia's tattoo easily without her making a sound. Before he wraps them up, he lets the two compare their new markings. The design they had chosen was simple and neat, red melting into blue. Stiles couldn't take his eyes off their wrists, already completely in love with their tattoos. He was red: blushing, human Stiles with blood rushing through his veins. And she was blue: ethereal eyes, a night sky, a wildflower in a field of weeds. Together they are Stiles and Malia: Boy meets Girl, Fox and Coyote, a pair never meant to last. But their worlds collided, catching faint traces of each other's crooked hearts. And now they'll walk through life together attached to the other like a shadow.

They thank Zack and leave him a hefty tip before walking out of the shop.


	14. Still Into You

Stiles and Malia are those type of people who you never thought would be good for each other. You never would have guessed that they would fit together, but that is what makes them a perfectly imperfect match. They seem to move together like falsely started sentences, misspelled words, and that weird moment in time when there's absolutely nothing to say to fill the silence. And in between those lapses in time, no words need to be spoken. Her hand is in his, his head against her shoulder, and the rawness of their relationship seeps into them slowly over time to where they feel more like one entity then two.

Graduation has come and gone like with the leaves that have changed. Lydia is going off to Stanford, while Scott and Kira rush off to UCLA together. Stiles and Malia decided to take a year off and finally make good on the pact they made with each other to explore Europe together. Even throughout their breakup, Stiles had still been saving up money, hopeful that somehow... someway, they would still make it. In a change of events, the two also ended up moving into an quaint, cozy apartment together in San Francisco where Stiles will begin the Police Academy and Malia will open up her own records store after getting her degree in Business.

It's a huge step to move in together, but Stiles had always been fond of grand gestures in the name of love and he thoroughly enjoys retelling the story of how he asked Malia to pack up and leave with him.

 

4 Months earlier...

Malia drops her book bag at her feet when she steps through the door of Stiles' house. She spent most of the day at the library looking up all the different places they would be visiting in their trek through Europe as well as the history behind them and venues they could stay at for cheap. 

The aroma of cooked deer and pineapple pizza fill her nose and her stomach growls comically. She turns the corner and finds the source of the smell. There's Stiles decked out in a "Kiss the Cook" apron, with flour on his cheeks and a frazzled look on his face. In the corner of the kitchen is a small table for two covered in fancy tablecloth with a few sunflowers at the center, surrounded by a couple of vanilla candles. Did she forget it was their anniversary or something? Dates like that weren't a big deal to Malia, but they meant a lot to Stiles so she tried to make sure she remembered the important ones.

Malia decides to wait to make her presence known and watches him flit around the kitchen with this adorably determined look on his face where his brows come together and he puckers his lips in concentration. After a moment, he begins pacing the tile floor, gesturing wildly in the spastic way he always does, while mumbling to himself.

"Come on Stiles, you can do this, you can do this. There's no way she'll say no, she loves you." Malia hears him whisper to himself as he pauses while he thinks, and then picks up again after a few seconds. 

"You'll just ask her to pick up her whole life and leave with you and it will be fine. Yeah, yeah, it will be fine." He stumbles over his words and quite literally over his own two feet. Malia is wondering what in the world he is talking about. 

Stiles looks down at the puzzle piece tattoo that always makes him think of Malia. He gets this warm, fuzzy feeling that inevitably brings a smile to his face. Because if you had told him his life would be like this a couple years ago, he would have laughed in your face. Stiles never thought happiness would come in the form of a leggy brunette with a rebellious streak and a heart of gold. 

Malia continues to watch him, the soft smile that is reserved solely for her tickles the corner of his lips and that's how she knows he's thinking of her too. Stiles always told her that she was his sun, his only safe place. That was a good way to describe who Stiles was for her. So if she is his sun, then he is her stars, and no matter where they are, she can always look out her window at night and feel at home. The stars find solace in the dark, and somehow, she feels like it's just for her. 

Malia is taken from her thoughts at the sound of Stiles busting into a monologue while staring at the mirror in the living room. 

"Malia, babe. Baby girl. I know this is sudden and we haven't been official that long but I feel like the here and now is calling our names and life isn't going to get put on hold. I want you to move in with me. And not here... But San Francisco. I even started looking for apartments. I even found one close to this mom and pop donut shop, because I know how much you love blueberry cake donuts on Sundays. I already talked to my dad about it and he supports us and thinks it's a great idea. After we get back from Europe I can begin the Police Academy and you can open that record store that you've always wanted and we'll just survive together as these stupid kids in this great big world. But we'll do it together, ya know? And I want that... To wake up to you every morning and for you to kiss me, not caring that I have morning breath. And I want to cook you breakfast and watch you walk around in my flannels and your underwear and maybe (absolutely) have mind blowing sex on the kitchen counter. And I want to laugh with you at late night talk shows after a long day of work with Chinese takeout and miss you when you're gone. I know this is fast and tumultuous and crazy but goddammit woman, I love the fuck out of you."

Malia feels the salty tears falling down her cheeks as she steps out from behind the corner and runs to him. He turns around just in time to catch her when her arms go around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"Have you been listening the whole time?" He asks amazed, blushing and stuttering cutely.

Malia answers by assaulting him with kisses and runs her fingers through his hair hungrily.

They finally come up for air and Malia breathes out,

"Yes. Yes, I'll move in with you."

Stiles kisses her again, long and slow, before setting her down and pulling out her seat at the table. He runs over to the kitchen, discarding his apron, and brings out their plates of food. Malia's mouth waters at the different smells and practically lunges at her food, manners be damned. And Stiles just looks at her with so much love before digging into his own food, catching her eyes from time to time and reveling in every second of it. 

 

Back to the Present...

Malia has come to realize that she absolutely loves domestic life. A settled down life was never something that she had envisioned for herself. After the accident and being turned back human, Malia never really saw her life going anywhere from that point. Everything seemed impossible and unrealistic for a girl like her, whether it be school or the situation with her biological parents. She still thinks of Isaac often, catching herself reminiscing over that night they met where he quite literally saved her life or the time at the beach that made her question every decision she had ever made. She remembers the lessons he taught her and the frightened little girl she was before him that was so afraid to mess up, thinking everyone would leave her behind. And she remembers what it felt like to love and be loved by him, and how he taught her to only accept that the love that she deserves. Those experiences showed Malia who she was, but it also taught Stiles many things.

Stiles had finally understood what he lost. And sometimes he thinks about how in another life, or maybe even if he had made different choices a year or so ago, this life with Malia that he loves so much could have been Isaac in his place by Malia's side. He could have made her happy while Stiles watched. And that thought shakes Stiles to the very core every time he thinks about it. But whenever Malia gets that far away look in her eye, he knows who she's thinking about, and he understands. He comforts her in the ways he knows how and Malia opens her soul to him time and time again. But no matter what, Malia loves Stiles with every tear in her heart: wholly, fully, and all-consuming. She would die for him and he for her, but there are some parts of each other that will always feel guilty for things that have happened in the past. Malia knows that even if Isaac had lived and they had been happy for a while, she would always find her way back to Stiles. It had always been him.

Stiles rushes home with a surprise for Malia. They had been talking about getting a dog for a while now and Stiles knew Malia had a weakness for big, protective dogs that looked like wolves. She would gush and get excited whenever they would watch Game of Thrones together and one of the Direwolves would come on screen and cry her eyes out when one of them would die. So being the doting boyfriend he is, Stiles had done some research and managed to find the same species of dogs they used in the show. He jumped at the opportunity and picked him up on the way home from work. It's fur was pure white and his eyes glowed a beautiful sky blue. They now had their very own Ghost.

"Malia!" Stiles calls out as he unlocks the front door to the apartment, looking around for his girlfriend. Stiles searches around the homey space, moving past his detective files and Malia's array of mixtapes and books until he spots her bent over the couch. It seems as though she has lost the remote again.

Stiles chuckles at her and she turns around, glaring playfully at him before that glare turns into a look of desire. Malia always loved seeing Stiles in his uniform. Something about the authority and dominance of it made her hot and bothered, always leading to the best sex when he got home.

"Hello, detective." She purrs, walking towards him in her daisy dukes and one of his cut off tshirts which she now claimed as her own. She pushes him down on the couch and straddles him as she begins kissing his neck in that spot that gets him every time. Stiles lets out a breathy groan and growls when she runs her teeth over the sensitive skin behind his ear. Malia is supple and warm as she moves against him, loving the delicious heat and friction she gets. His hands are on her ass guiding her on top of him as she moves painfully slow in circular motions. Oh fuck, he forgot about the dog.

"Malia-I-I have something-for you."

She stops her movements and looks at him, smirking at the breathless expression on his face with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"What is it?" She asks curiously, getting off of him and plopping down on the seat beside him.

Stiles jumps up and runs to the door, mentioning how it's outside. He comes back inside and rounds the corner and Malia's eyes bug out of her head.

"Oh my gosh, Stiles, you got me a Direwolf?!" She exclaims excitedly, rushing over and smothering the dog with attention.

"Well I know how much you've always wanted one so I tried to find one for you." He smiles sheepishly, glad that she likes her present.

Malia moves her hand in a back and forth motion over the fur and lovingly nuzzles his nose.

"I think I want to name him Ghost. Ya know, after Jon Snow's." She says from her spot on the floor and looks up at him.

"I like it, it fits him."

Malia continues to play with the dog as Stiles shrugs off his jacket and goes into their room to change.

"So what do you want for dinner tonight, babe?" Malia calls from the kitchen.

"Hmmm how about that little, italian place down the street?" He shouts back, throwing a shirt over his head.

"Can we afford that tonight? We have rent coming up and the phone bill and..." Malia lists off, walking into the room.

"I think I can scrounge together a little bit of extra money to have a proper date night with my woman. I was thinking we could go dancing too."

"But you hate dancing." Malia laughs and rolls her eyes.

"But you don't." He smirks, loving the way Malia bites back a smile with her pretty pink lips trapped between her teeth.

"Okay, Stilinski. Italian and dancing it is." She grins and gives him a quick peck on the lips before skipping out of the room to hang out with Ghost.

 

Later that night, Malia is getting ready to go out. She throws on a deep purple sundress with her favorite pair of black boots. Her fingers are decorated in rings and she stares an extra second longer at the one Stiles gave her that now sits on her middle finger. It was his mother's ring and she couldn't believe he had given it to her. It was now Malia's prized possession. Today she decided to loop it through a chain her father had gotten her for graduation and fastened it around her neck. She didn't want to take the chance of losing it through dinner or dancing.

Her hair has grown longer over the year, just past her shoulders and is still the same natural, chocolate brown color. She puts a little more effort into her appearance, applying a little bit of smokey eye shadow that adds to her long lashes and swipes a coat of mauve lipstick on mouth. She even learned how to use that highlighter Lydia had bought her without her entire face looking like a disco ball.

Stiles waits for her in the living room dressed in a midnight blue shirt, dark jeans, and shoes. He's began to grow a little bit of facial hair around his jaw, making him look older. He thought about shaving it off, but Malia loves it, so he decides to keep it. His lanky frame has filled out nicely, his arms fitting snugly into his shirts. All the working out for the physical part of the Police Academy had it's perks.

Malia is light on her feet as she dances out of the room and does a cute little spin for him as he admires how beautiful she looks. The dim lighting in the room casts shadows on her face and the light from the candles uncovers her eyes as the light hits them.

Stunning.

She smiles at his eyes roaming her body before finally landing on her face, the only one he wishes to see every day for the rest of his life.

"What are you staring at, Stilinski?" She chuckles, secretly loving every second that his eyes are on her.

"You." He grins, as if it should be obvious. She's so beautiful. It was hard to not notice it.

She shakes her head at him as he grabs her hand and they make their way out the door. They walk down cobblestone streets and admire the sky-high buildings, crowds of people, and pairs of lovers that are scattered around the city. Little kids run around with ice cream and bustling cars litter the streets. But what really catches Stiles attention is an older couple sitting on a stone bench in the park. They're cuddled together from the chill in the air and the man takes off his jacket and puts it over the woman's shoulders. She's leaning against his chest as they share a cup of coffee and Stiles instantly feels like he's invading in on a private moment. He begins to imagine him and Malia like that one day, much older with laugh lines embedded in their cheeks. Little moments like that make him believe that there are still beautiful things left in this world to experience.

They arrive at the restaurant and are taken back to their seats to a little private booth in the back of the establishment that is graced with low lighting and muted voices. Malia's dress flows around her with each step she takes and Stiles helps her into her seat. The waiter takes their drink order when they are acquainted.

"What could I get you guys to start off with?" Their waiter asks politely as he waits for their answer.

"The best bottle of red wine you've got, sir." Stiles says easily, knowing Malia has been craving it.

"Oh, and can we get some of those garlic, butter rolls with that too, please?" Malia adds on with a charming smile. And of course, the waiter is already taken with her.

"Oh great... He better keep his eyes at face level." Stiles thinks begrudgingly as waiter writes down Malia's request and then scurries off to the kitchen.

The night goes by smoothly and the food is delicious. Malia slumps back in her seat and rubs her tummy and Stiles does the same. She had ordered the shrimp linguine and Stiles had gone for the lasagna, but of course they had picked off each other's plates the whole time. The waiter comes back and asks if they would like to see the dessert menu, which they both reluctantly decline. Stiles pays the check and they make their way out of the restaurant. They decide to stop and get some German chocolate cake with coconut flakes from their favorite pie place near the house and split it over conversation.

"So how's that case going that you've been working on? Any new leads?" Malia asks with interest as she moans around her spoon full of chocolaty goodness.

Stiles doesn't think he's ever been more envious than he is of the eating utensil between her lips.

He had been working on this case for the last couple of months. There's been a missing little girl of the age of 5 who simply vanished into thin air, leaving no trace. He's been tracking any leads he could find, and had kept coming to a dead end. However, he may have a new lead to go on...

"So I've been doing some research and looking through some video footage of all the surrounding town's public transportation units. And I think I might have found something on one of the tapes."

"You think it's her? How could she have gone unnoticed for all this time? Her face has been plastered all over the news and papers for the past few months." Malia questions, also having a knack for solving mysteries. It's something she inevitably picked up from Stiles and she would sometimes try to help him in his search with the little information he was legally allowed to tell her.

"I don't know, babe. It's weird." He says, finishing off the cake.

They finish the night off dancing at the local jazz club, the slinky and sexual vibes ooze through the crowd of people. Malia's body moves in slow motion, every dip and curve drawing Stiles in. He makes his way to the floor and expertly pulls her into his arms and swings her around as her back arches in his hands. The beat is exhilarating and nostalgic and they're so close that their noses are touching. She's putty in his hands and Stiles can feel her warm breath tickling his neck. He pulls her to him by her hair and into a passionate kiss and he swears they are the only two people in the world. Time does that funny thing again, stopping and staring. But this time it's not just for Malia, but it's more like the Universe taking a snapshot of their lives together.

Author's Note: So what do you guys think of domestic Stalia? Leave comments/reviews please, I love hearing from you guys!


	15. Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: 'Roslyn' by Bon Iver

Stiles is the best boyfriend on the planet. Heck, the universe. At least he likes to think he is. He had been getting Malia a new gift every day that week, leading up to her birthday on Sunday. Hence, the dire wolf.

Malia is a lover of music. Well like no shit, she owns a record store. Stiles had sneakily went through her most listened to songs on her iTunes last week when she was in the shower. He had timed it just right to where she was mid-shampoo when he was done, moving back over to his side of the couch as he waited for her to get out. They had decided to watch Dirty Dancing. And based off the explosive sex that happened not even half way through the movie, he’d say it had been a great night. But that’s besides the point. He had figured out who her all time favorite artist was. And not that Stiles doesn’t know her favorites, because he does. But it’s a coin toss between who is her favorite of that week and every other week after that. Malia is indecisive and can’t seem to focus for too long, so she tends to switch songs before the current one is finished. It’s just one of those quirks that he had come to love about her. Besides, you can tell a lot about a person by their play list: The Smiths, Deptford Goth, Keane, Oh Wonder, Temper Trap. You name it, she listens to it.

Bon Iver was her flavor of the week and Stiles couldn’t help but be secretly thrilled. He always loved to watch her get lost in a song, hearing her humming along with the chorus as she sways around the kitchen in her underwear and one of his flannels. It may seem trivial, but those are the true moments she shines. Stiles just keeps falling in love with her every day all over again.

So for the second gift of her “birthday week”, which for the record was more for Stiles’ amusement than anything else, he scored tickets to see Bon Iver that night. 

Stiles lays in bed and turns to look at her. She’s loose and unruly between the sheets and a lazy smile rests on her lips. Her hair is mused and sprawled over the pillows, just the way he likes it. Everything about her was so effortless, she never has to try to be beautiful. He runs his finger down the side of her cheek because he knows how ticklish she is there and he can’t help noticing how adorable she looks when she scrunches up her nose and pops one eye open. But he wouldn’t tell her that of course, she’d probably growl at him, mumbling something about the early hour of the morning.

She lifts an eyebrow. “Stiles, why are you waking me up? You know today is my day off which means no wakey wakey until I’m good and ready or the smell of coffee lures me to the kitchen.” She grunts, frowning at a piece of hair in her face as she blows it out of the way.

“But baby, I just wanted to see your gorgeous face this morning.” He grins, laughing loudly at the roll of her eyes and the pillow she chunks at his head.

However, she can’t help but smile. “Cheese ball.” She mutters, covering her grin with a cough.

“So Mal, I was thinking coffee and chocolate chip pancakes this morning, sound good to you?” Stiles inquires, trying to find a way to lure her into the kitchen.

She yawns, smiling crookedly and begins crawling over to him. “Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Deputy.” She breathes out, nuzzling Stiles’ neck with the tip of her nose and placing kisses under his jaw. 

“Uh--I--Oooohh- Maaaliaaa...” He groans, burying his fingers in her hair and placing her gingerly in his lap. He loves the taste of her lips and the way she presses her forehead to his in between kisses. Stiles figures the coffee and pancakes can wait a good thirty minutes.

After fooling around a bit, Stiles comes running out of their room with Malia flailing around on his back.

“Ahhhh Stiles, put me down!” She begins giggling uncontrollably and proceeds to poke him in his side, which of course he’s ticklish, so he joins in on her laughter.

“M-Mal..Malia, you play dirty!” He chuckles, setting her down and points an accusing finger at her. He has a pouty look on his face that’s threatening to crack any minute now.

She saunters up to him and presses her body into his, grabbing the back of his neck while leaning in. “I thought you like it when I’m dirty.” She whispers suggestively, running her lips down the shell of his ear and sucking on the pulse point behind it that has him coming undone within seconds. 

Stiles moans, loving how every single sensation of his body wants her so badly. 

“We can’t, babe.” He says regretfully, taking her face into his hands.

“And why the hell not?” She groans, jutting out her pretty pink lips.

“Because I’ll get distracted again and won’t end up giving you your second gift for your birthday week. Plus, I’m starving and I could really use some chocolate chip pancakes.” He rambles on before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Malia continues to pout but eventually gives in. “Fine, oh fellow boyfriend of mine who denies my invitation to hot kitchen sex, let the pancake-making commence.” She snorts, playfully shoving him out of the way while she gets the ingredients out. 

He smacks her ass when she passes by and she lets out a little yelp. “That’s my girl.” He smirks and gives her a little wink when she hits him with the evil eye.

Later that night, the duo are ready to head out the door. That morning when Stiles had given her the tickets, Malia had jumped around like a kid on Christmas. 

She now stood in the living room, tapping impatiently with her foot on the hardwood floor. She’s dressed in a pair of denim mom jeans, a dark green sweater and a black beanie. Stiles walks out in a pair of dark jeans and the blue Henley that he knows she loves, letting out a low whistle when he sees her. Because who wouldn’t if they have a smoking hot girlfriend like him?

She swats him in the chest and he catches her hand in his grasp, holding it over his heart for a lingering moment. She mouths a silent, ‘I love you’ which Stiles utterly swoons over every time she says it. He returns those three little words with a peck to her lips in between each one before slinging his arm around her shoulders as they walk out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some comments, please :)


	16. Through the Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Okay so this has a major time jump! This story will be coming to a close soon. I'm starting to run out of ideas and I feel like it's natural conclusion is near! I'm sad to let this story go because it was my first and has a special place in my heart. I'm going to write another chapter or two to finish it off. I hope you've enjoyed this story and thanks for sticking with me this long! Love you guys!

15 Years Later...

Malia stands watching her from the doorway as she thinks about how all the decisions she's made in her life that have led up to this moment. The more she looks at her, Malia can't believe that she was capable of creating something so beautiful, so fiery, so celestial. She always thought she was a magnet for destruction. A certain kind of chaos that couldn't be utilized for something good. But she did, she created a life.

And she belonged to her. To them.

Luna Tate-Stilinski came as a surprise: A wonderful, little bundle of stars that lit up Malia's life every morning when she'd wake up and see the brown-haired, wild child's nose stuck in a book, rifling through Malia's record tapes, or sitting in the back of the house surrounded by the musky smells of the outdoors and the trees that stretched on for miles on the property they owned.  
She has so much of Stiles in her that it almost breaks Malia's heart. Luna inherited his large, caramel eyes that shine like a sunrise when she's excited. They're so expressive and animated, always watching and observing, like a little detective. She has his moles too. And his quick wit. And his thirst for knowledge. She's loyal and fierce and protective of what's hers. She may have gotten that from the both of them.

And in some ways, she is like Malia, too. Her dark hair hangs in disorderly curls that frame her sun-kissed skin. She's tall, just like her mom, only just turning 15 years old. And she unfortunately received her temper, as well, which tended to lead to some explosive fights and arguments. Malia would never even think about harming her child, but Stiles was never far behind to take on his role as the peacekeeper in times when her and Luna would clash. All in all, Malia and Luna were just too similar to each other at times that their personalities could be suffocating to one another. They can be blunt. They can be selfish. But they can also be soft when they want to be. And as hard as they may go at one another under stress, they love each other that much harder.

Malia rounds the corner and sits cross-legged next to Luna who is huddled in some quilts and pillows near the fire place. She always had a feeling when her daughter needed to talk about something. Call it mother's intuition, if you will.

Luna doesn't even blink an eyelash when Malia makes her presence known and continues to stare intensely into the heart of the fire.

After a straight ten minutes of sitting in silence, Luna breaks the quiet. "Why didn't you tell me before?" She asks with a wave of resentment crossing her eyes and her face flushed with anger.  
"Because it wasn't the right time." Malia says simply, gearing herself up for the conversation she was about to have.

"Was there ever going to be a right time, mom? I just- I don't know how to do this. I'm not you and I'm not dad." Luna admits, her voice cracking in places. It wasn't easy finding out about the skeletons in your parent's closet, especially with one parent mysteriously absent.

"I guess there isn't really. There's never a right time to tell your children the things that you are most afraid of. But you'll be better than I was, Luna. You'll have people helping you. I had to learn to survive on my own and to fend for myself. But you don't have to do this alone. Me, your dad, Aunt Lydia, Uncle Scott, Aunt Kira... We will all be here."

"What if I can't control it? What if I turn out like your mom or how Papa Peter used to be?" Luna asked, worry shining in her eyes.

Malia smooths her curls, bringing her closer into her side so that Luna's head rests on her shoulder. "That won't happen."

"How do you know?" Luna asks.

"Because I just know." She turns Luna to face her and takes her small face into her hands, wiping away the tears that start falling down her cheeks. "You are so powerful, do you know that? You're part coyote and part fox. I know you're scared that the fox will take over, but you don't have to be. Aunt Kira is going to teach you control. And I'm going to help you with your coyote powers. I may not be as strong as I used to be since half of my powers were passed down to you, but I will never let anything happen to you, do you understand? You're the single greatest thing that's ever happened to me." Malia vows, trying to control the shaking in her voice. She was trying not to get too emotional, not wanting to frighten Luna and get her prepared for what was about to happen.

"Is that why dad is gone?" She asks curiously. Luna had always been way too smart for her own good. She always asked questions, seeking answers, and not backing down until she knew what she needed to. That's kind of how she had found out what she is in the first place. "Mom... Where did dad go? Is he coming back soon?"

warm expression turns stoic at the mention of Stiles.

"Daddy had to go away for a little while, baby girl." She says through a tight-lipped smile, purposely hiding her eyes so Luna couldn't see the panic that was beginning to set in. Her daughter was always too good at reading her expressions. She had cautiously been evading her endless questions for a couple of weeks now, not yet ready to discuss Stiles. She knew it wasn't his fault that he was gone, but it still ripped her heart out every day that she woke up to their cold, empty bed, remembering once again in the morning that he wasn't there when she reaches out for him.  
Luna traces the dark circles under Malia's eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping much, have you?" She observes, giving her mom a concerned look.

She brushes her hand away and cups her daughter's smaller hands between her own. "You don't have to take care of me, Lun. I'm the mom, it's my job to worry about you." She stresses, tucking a piece of Luna's long, dark hair behind her ear.

"We're suppose to take care of each other..." She replies, looking down at their hands and then back up to meet her mom's tired eyes. "I promised dad I wouldn't let you lose yourself while he's gone." She finishes, giving Malia's hands a tight squeeze and a sad smile crosses her face.

"Okay baby, we take of each other from now on. But it's late and it's time for you to go to bed, you've got school in the morning." Malia lets out a yawn and stretches her arms out before getting up off the floor and starting off to her room.

"Hey uh mom... Can I-um- can I sleep with you, tonight?" Luna asks self-consciously, twirling a piece of her hair between her fingers.

Malia pulls her daughter into a hug and leads her towards her and Stiles' room. "Of course, sweets. Come on, it will be like a sleepover." She whispers, a smile tugging at her lips as she opens the door and starts getting under the covers. Stiles' scent has already began to fade from the pillows and sheets, one of the reasons Malia hadn't been getting much sleep lately. She missed him so much that it felt like she couldn't breath, like every second was taking the air right out of her lungs.

Luna's hair fans the pillows and she snuggles up next to Malia.

"I love you, mom." She yawns groggily, falling to sleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

"As I love you, Lun. I love you so much." She says, brushing her hand over Luna's forehead before drifting off into her thoughts.

She stares down at the tattoo that decorates her wrist, emotion flooding her veins and causing her eyes to light an airy blue. She looks through the window and out at the stars, letting the vision of his face wash over her like a tidal wave. "He's coming back. He'd never leave us behind" she says to herself before laying back down, face staring up at the ceiling. She dreamt of brown eyes and pale skin, all wrapped up in the man of her dreams that just happens to be the love of her life, with her hand resting around Luna's shoulders. It was the best sleep she'd had in a long time.


End file.
